#and i hope this wasn't too long-winded and makes at least a bit of sense

[homehauntsyou]

re "dean shouldn't have to be nice to jack" it gives the same vibe as people openly and proudly hating children as a whole

like yes I personally am uncomfortable around children and don't want to have any, but also that's a child so if one interacts with me I'll play along and answer their banana phone and ask them about their favorite dinosaur, you should still be nice to kids bc they are. you know. children.

it does definitely give those vibes. personally i feel like it's not that extreme to question dean's treatment of jack and say that it's definitely not the best. and i suppose you can argue that he has no "obligation" to but again. jack is days (to a few years) old. can we be just a little bit realistic here and perhaps remember that dean does not always have to be perfect

and i think the main issue i have with it beyond that is that it usually comes in parallel with the idea that "jack isn't family and therefore dean shouldn't have to care about him/be nice to him" which is just subscribing to the way that dean views the world and missing the fact that their family is Everything at all times mindset is the core of john and dean's abuse. jack not being family shouldn't have an impact on the way he "deserves" to be treated (thinking abt the famous "you deserved to be saved, he doesn't" moment) and how his familial status/role is the thing that makes him actually a monster & determines his value. and it does also tend to appear in the same blogs that say sam "betrayed" dean by going to stanford and again in s4/s5 (notably 05x16) where it's very consistently clear that they are just really falling into dean's flawed belief system simply because it's dean's.

i just think that in the end there are so many more interesting things to explore, besides the idea that dean "doesn't have to be nice" (like the dean & john elements within dean & jack's relationship as well as the dean & sam elements) but ofc that would require taking a step back from much of common fanon so perhaps my hopes are too high

[azrielbrainrot]

Such a Perfect Place To Start

Pairing: Azriel x Healer!Reader

Description: Something happens that has you questioning the nature of your relationship with the shadowsinger.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3911

Notes: When I started writing this I didn't think it was going to lead to that. Hope you like it!

Healer!Reader Masterlist

When you were called to the House of Wind so urgently by the High Lady herself you were expecting a more pressing matter, a life or death situation like you're used to, not exactly a library full of books. You don't know how long you've been sitting in this chair but you couldn't feel your butt anymore, no matter how many different positions you tried to sit in. You were used to doing some research while studying new healing techniques or herbs but these millenia old books on magical symbols were a little different.

There had been some attacks across the Night Court, including in the mountains surrounding Velaris, with some pretty disturbing details. After being killed, the victims' eyes had been removed and a symbol had been carved into their chests. All the symbols were different and, at this time, their meaning was still unknown. Unfortunately, none of the victims had survived either so there weren't any witnesses and, even after Azriel's thorough investigations, there was no evidence left behind by the culprits. It was as if no one had even been there.

You had heard some rumors about this before getting called in. Gossip spread around fast in Velaris and, even with the Inner Circle's efforts to keep panic to a minimum, people had found out about some of the details. The area around Velaris is relatively safe so to have multiple killings in a short time and in such gruesome ways was causing a bit of a fearful atmosphere to fall upon the city of dreamers. The increase in security wasn't easily missed either.

After being summoned to the River House, Feyre and Rhysand had briefed you on everything they knew and asked you for your help, seeing as they could only trust a few select people. Since there were no other clues left behind besides the symbols, the High Lord decided that, for now, everyone should focus on finding their meaning, so he sent his most trusted people to his private library to look through every book that might help.

You had obviously felt incredibly honored and happy that they trusted you this much. You've been getting closer to the inner circle after your talk with Azriel a few months ago, and sometimes still feared your friendships were a bit one sided.

As honored as you felt that they trusted you, though, you had spent days searching through old books just to come up empty. It was more tiring than a week at a war healing tent. Not to mention having to do so by Amren's side. You had no personal problems with the newly turned high fae but she still scared you profusely. Your power gave you a sense of people's aura and hers had always felt unsettling at best, even after getting turned.

At least, you weren't alone with her, everyone in the Inner Circle and some of the Valkyries had shown up at the library to help at some point. There was no way of knowing who could be behind these attacks and, from what you gathered, these fae had been moving across the court too easily, meaning they could be from the night court or even Velaris, so you couldn't involve the priestesses in the library.

The sky was already completely dark outside, making way for the millions of stars to shine in the sky. The atmosphere was a little too quiet for this time of night, usually there would still be fae walking around the city, in and out of bars and theaters. Amren had already left. The ancient one had tucked a book under her arm and walked out without much of a goodbye, leaving you with Feyre and Azriel in the library.

“I think it's time to stop for the day,” your High Lady's voice cut through the silence suddenly, “Rhys just finished at the office too.” Sometimes you envied how convenient the daematis abilities were. As her eyes glaze over and a smirk threatens to play at her lips, you know her mate is giving her a good reason to go home.

“I'll stay a bit longer,” you hold your finger over the passage you were reading, these old books had tiny fonts and you'd already lost yourself in enough of them to know better now, “I have to go to the clinic tomorrow so I wanted to at least finish this book.” There were only about half a dozen pages left of it so, even if your body was screaming at you to go to bed, you wanted to get this done first.

“Alright,” the High Lady adds her last book to the pile and looks at you one more time, “Don't stay too long. We need you to be focused at the clinic.��� Her eyes shift to the shadowsinger and narrow slightly, her tone a little sterner, “You too, Az. Get some sleep.”

The spymaster nods dutifully at his friend's warning and she seems content enough with the response or in enough hurry to meet her mate, as she gives you both one last smile and turns to the door, saying one last goodbye over her shoulder.

Azriel stayed with you, even though his book had just started and there was no way he would finish it tonight. You were torn between thinking it was because he didn't trust you in the House by yourself, as the ever protective spymaster, and just writing it off as his willingness to help his court even at the risk of his own health and comfort, you don't even wanna think how many sleepless nights the spymaster has spent working lately.

You shake off your thoughts and keep reading the boring book. The sooner you finish the sooner you can go to sleep. Even your healing abilities can't do much to fight the headache you were feeling after spending the whole day reading symbols and their uses in dark magic, some of the rituals described were also making your stomach queasy.

Just as you're about to finish the last page, you hear a soft groan coming from Azriel and can't help but look up at him. His head was thrown back, showing off the column of his neck. His eyes were closed tight like he was fighting the same headache as you. With his wings stretched as far as they could go, it looked like they were taking up most of the private library, not that it was a small room by any means.

The spymaster looked exhausted. He's been spending his days meeting up with his spies and informants all around Prythian, trying to find any information on the attackers and investigating any strange movement in the court. At night, he comes home and joins you in the library to help with research, sometimes even staying up later than everyone else. You know he will do the same thing tomorrow and the day after, until you find any relevant clues and catch the killers.

Azriel takes these things more personally than maybe even the High Lord and Lady. His job as spymaster is finding any threats to the court after all, preferably before they happen. You know he must feel like he's failing his court and you wish you could show him that he's doing more than enough, that it's not his fault. Under the tough exterior and immense power, Azriel has an extremely kind soul, you've felt it. He'd make the impossible happen if it meant he could protect his court, his family, even if it cost him his own life.

“You should go to sleep,” you can't help but worry for him, “You were out all day before you came here. You must be really tired.”

You wonder how long it's been since he's had a good night of sleep. Even before this situation, it was no secret that the shadowsinger was a bit of an insomniac. You had given him a few sleeping tonics before in hopes of helping him have at least a few moments of peace.

“I'll wait for you,” he tells you, meeting your eyes. You can see the fatigue swirling around in his unguarded gaze, it seems you had been right to assume he hasn't been sleeping. “You're almost done.”

You look back down at your book and wonder how he's been keeping track of what you've been doing while reading his own book. Still, if finishing this means Azriel can go to sleep, you'll do it as fast as you can. Reading through the last page intently to make sure nothing escapes you.

Just as you're about to finish you make a silent request to the House, and two steaming cups of tea appear in front of each of you. Passionflower tea to lessen his stress and help with sleep, you've given it to him before and he told you it helped so you hope it does the trick once again.

Since you're focused on the book, you miss the way his eyes finally stray from your form to look down at the tea now sitting in front of him. You also miss the smile on his face when he reaches for it and the way his shadows let him know you were the one who asked for it, gushing about how you took care of their master.

“Do you still not trust me, Spymaster?” You close the book and put it into the ever growing pile. Stretching a bit before taking your tea into your hands and blowing on it gently.

“I trust you with my life, sweetheart.” The seriousness in his statement makes you pause with the cup halfway to your lips for a moment. You didn't need the Morrigan's gift to know he was telling the truth. The nickname takes a little longer to register but as soon as it does color rushes to your cheeks.

“Then why wait for me?” You hadn't actually thought he didn't trust you in the library but you still weren't sure why he had stayed behind after Feyre left.

“Wanted to keep you company until you finished,” he shrugged. His voice is a little gravely with sleep which is a big problem for the butterflies already fluttering in your stomach. “We've been spending a lot of time together but we've barely talked.”

He wants to talk to you. You can't help the smile or the giddy feeling washing over you. He's tired but he chose to stay up a little longer to do something as trivial as talking to you.

“What did you want to talk about then?” The way he's picking at the painted decorations in his teacup makes you think he might be feeling a little nervous but you're not sure why.

“Anything you want,” he answered a little too fast. Maybe it's the low lights in the room but you swear there's some color dusting his cheeks.

“It's hard to pick a topic like that,” you say before biting your lip slightly. For some reason you suddenly feel a little pressure to come up with a good topic, not wanting to disappoint or bore him. “Lately, all I can think about is this,” you run your finger over one of the books' spines, “It's hard to focus on anything else after spending hours in here.”

“If you feel like this is too much you can tell me. I'll talk to Rhys and he'll send you back to the clinic,” he frowns. His shadows reach a little towards you, as if wanting to comfort you. You didn't mean to worry him.

“That's not what I meant,” you start, “I want to help. I've just never dealt with anything like this. I've been to war but this… killing innocent fae in such a disturbing way is different.”

“I understand,” he nods, “If you need anything you can tell me. Even if you just want to talk.”

“Alright.” Azriel has a way of talking that leaves you not knowing how to respond sometimes. He's so sincere in what he says that you almost feel like any response would fall short. “You too. If you need help with anything I'm always here for you.”

He gives you a single nod before hiding what looked like a bashful smile behind his tea. You finish your teas like this, enjoying each other's company in the quiet of the night.

You can't hold back a yawn when you set your teacup down. As much as you'd love to stay up talking to Azriel all night, your body is about ready to crash on you.

“We should go to sleep,” he says as he stands up, making the teacups disappear. “You have to be at the clinic early.”

“You're right,” you agree with a sigh, standing up to follow him to the door. You've only been going to the clinic twice a week ever since Feyre asked for your help with this case so you know you'll have a long day ahead of you. “Will you fly me down tomorrow?”

“Of course,” he tells you as he opens the door for you, “What kind of male would I be if I let our favorite healer walk down the thousands of steps by herself?”

“Favorite? I'll tell Madja you said that,” you point your finger at him playfully.

“Second favorite then,” he takes it back with a wink, making you laugh. The smile lingers on your face all the way to the guest room you're staying in and it only deepens when you realize he walked you all the way to your door.

You turn and look up at him expectantly. It looks like he wants to tell you something with the way he's searching your face and his shadows pool at both of your feet. If you didn't know any better you'd think they wanted to crawl up your legs. You've found that they can give some of Azriel's emotions away sometimes, when he doesn't have a grip on them at least.

Your body doesn't react when he bends down slowly, pausing for a brief moment before kissing your cheek softly, murmuring a good night against your skin. It doesn't react after either, when he pulls back to watch your reaction. In fact, it's not until he walks over to his door and lets out a small chuckle, that you finally move and almost crash into the room, fumbling with the doorknob and slamming the door behind you.

As you lean your back against the door, you put your hand over your chest and stare wide eyed at the window across the room. You almost thought you were imagining things. He can probably hear your heart beating all the way in his room across the hall, you wouldn't be surprised if everyone in Velaris could hear with how loud it's beating. You let yourself slide against the door until you're crouching.

You hadn't expected him to kiss you. You know Azriel isn't one for a lot of physical touch. You've only gotten a hug out of him once, during the war after an attack on the healer's tent. He had thought you were dead then, after watching so many die he'd just been glad to see someone he knows still breathing. Actually, you might have been the one to hug him first. You had never been so close to death and were scared out of your mind. It was your first war after all.

You and Azriel had been getting closer over the months, closer than you were with the rest of Inner Circle. Even before your talk that night, he's always been friendly to you, but the shadowsinger was kind to all the healers - to everyone that wasn't his enemy really - so you never thought much of it. But this felt different. Tonight felt different.

You hadn't fully admitted it to yourself yet but the more time you spent with the shadowsinger the more your crush evolved. What had once been a silly crush based on appearance and his kind nature had quickly turned into palpable feelings. You liked him. A lot.

However, acknowledging this could destroy the friendship you had built with him for the past few months, maybe with the rest of his family as well. That's what you thought before at least. You assumed Azriel would never have feelings for you. The idea seemed so preposterous it never even crossed your mind, but now you're not so sure.

Maybe it seemed like you were exaggerating to think this after a little kiss, on the cheek no less, but this kiss made you think back on the last months you've spent with Azriel. He's been insisting on flying you up and down the stairs every time he's around, usually this task would be left to Cassian, who loved showing off his wings to you.

He's been going to the clinic more often too, stocking up on anything he can think of when he's never done that in the century you've been working in Velaris. Azriel was always one to not think much of his own health, it bothered you to no end. He also came to you with every injury. Usually when a member of the Inner Circle was hurt, Madja was the one who was called. You'd only accompany her if she needed assistance or go in her place if she wasn't able to go herself. Of course over the years they'd come to use you more and more, which is why you didn't even think of it, but looking back now… You don't know what to think anymore.

Getting up with a sigh, you make your way to your closet to change. Your thoughts consume you while you get ready for bed but your tiring day catches up to you as soon as your head hits the pillow. However, this doesn't spare you from dreaming of a certain shadowsinger.

You take longer to wake up than usual, making you hurry through your morning routine. Your body isn't used to the schedule you've been putting it through lately, and it's starting to show. But because of this, it isn't until you go to open the door to the guest room that you remember Azriel is going to fly you down to the clinic. And the incident that had you spiraling before going to sleep.

Deciding walking down the steps by yourself isn't a viable option, you go to find him and pray to the Mother things aren't too awkward between you. It had just been a little kiss on the cheek and your lack of reaction could totally be blamed on the long day, your brain was just having trouble catching up, that's all. It had been a completely normal exchange between friends, not that you're blushing just thinking about it or anything. You could just pretend it didn't happen.

As you make your way to the front door, the shadows dancing around in the hallway catch your eye instantly. You've seen them do this before, when Azriel doesn't need them and they don't want to brave the light, they just linger around the room in curious little wisps. You can't help the smile as they gravitate slowly towards you.

Right after they notice you, their master appears through the door. One of them must have warned him of your arrival, they're so cute sometimes you forget they're spies. Of course they'd tell on you.

“Good morning,” he greets. Azriel may be a shadowsinger but he looks breathtaking in the morning light. His skin glows beautifully and his eyes look a little lighter, it makes him look younger. Gods, how can he be so beautiful?

He looks a little relieved to see you. Maybe he thought you'd escape by yourself or ask someone else to fly you to the clinic to avoid him. It makes you feel a little bad that you had him worried but it's his own fault for playing with your heart like that.

“Good morning,” you smile, walking up to him. “Are you ready?”

“I was just waiting for you,” he says as he extends a hand for you to take. This has the nerves already lingering inside your body make themselves more noticeable. You almost forgot flying you down means he'll have to carry you. It had taken a while for you to get used to not only the flying but also the way he had to hold you - funny how you never had this problem with Cassian.

You take his hand and try not to move too much or gasp as he picks you up off the floor like you weigh nothing. He immediately starts walking to the edge of the stairs, holding you close to his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he breathes into your ear, extending his wings and getting ready to take flight. You do as he says and wrap your arms tighter around his neck, praying he can't feel your heart beat inside your chest.

You'll never get over how stunning Velaris looks from above or how the wind passes around you as you soar through the clouds. It's a real shame that you weren't born with wings. You understand why Illyrians are so protective of them, after knowing what this feels like, it's hard to imagine never being able to do it again.

“You know I won't drop you.” You look away from the landscape and meet his gaze. He can probably feel how tense you are but you can't tell him it has nothing to do with the height or any fear of him letting you fall.

“I know,” you assure. “What would you do without your favorite healer?” He lets out a small laugh in response and your body finally relaxes.

The flight doesn't take long, and, before you know it, he's landing right outside your clinic. He helps you get down and even holds onto you a little longer, giving you a once over to make sure you're steady on your feet.

An idea passes through your mind and you bite your lip, wondering if you'd truly lost it. You take a quick look around before you lose your nerve. It was still early enough that the streets were almost deserted, no one should see you.

Turning back to the shadowsinger, you hesitate again when you notice him watching you, probably wondering what you were up to. If you read the situation wrong this could make things very awkward for the two of you.

Deciding not to let your anxiety reign your life, you grab his shoulder gently so you can pull him a little closer to your height. Standing on your tiptoes to clear the rest of your height difference. You hold onto his cheek and place a soft kiss on the other side of his face, murmuring a “thank you”.

You step back again and look up at him, still slightly bent from where you pulled him to you and looking at your face with wide eyes. You're not sure if you've ever seen the feared spymaster so caught off guard before. There was a small smile playing at his lips though, so you assume you hadn't completely misread the situation. You can't help but form a grin of your own and turn around to go inside the clinic, leaving him behind just as he did to you last night. Your heart soaring higher than you had just been.

[bigification]

Bear Darts

"Yes! They finally came in." I say in excitement as I pick up a package in front of my dorm. I rush inside and rip open the package. 8 small darts with a weird green liquid inside and a bamboo tube. "There's no way they actually work right?" The website seemed so legit and the concept seemed too good to be true. "Guaranteed to transform any man into a certified bear." Was the tag line. I am tempted to jab one of them into my arm right now, but I'm too nervous. What if it's just poison or something? I should at least test it out, it'll be fun anyway.

I stuff the darts and the bamboo into my bag and head to campus. Who to start with? Mr. Henderson could be a good option. I don't like him so if it goes wrong I don't care, and he's pretty scrawny so I'll be able to see any difference. I decide to head to Mr. Henderson's office, figuring he'll be a good test run.

On the way, I come across a raccoon rummaging through garbage in an alley, and an idea sparks through my mind. If it's that harmful, it would hurt a raccoon, so I might as well test them out. I pull out a dart and the bamboo and head into the alley. I slot the dart into the end of the bamboo, line up the shot, and blow as hard as I can. I hear the swoosh of the dart piercing the wind. The dark hits the raccoons back and it barely reacts, as if it's just a measly mosquito bite. The green liquid drains out of the dart, and I wait for a reaction. It doesn't take long for the animal to start twitching. It's hard to tell in the shadow of the alley, but my kind went straight to the worst, it was poisonous. But then I saw its body change shape. It wasn't much, but its scrawny limbs grew thicker, its belly grew rounder, and its grubby little paws grew larger. By the end, it still resembled a raccoon, just larger and meatier than you'd expect a raccoon to be. Could this be real? I continue watching as the raccoon resumes its normal activities.

I let out a chuckle in excitement at what was yet to come. I walk back out of the alley and speed walk to Mr. Henderson's office, this was gonna be good. The website said results may vary depending on what the person looked like before the transformation, and based on other things like genetics. Essentially it's random. But I was still hoping to see Mr. Henderson with a big hairy gut spilling out of his shirt.

I finally make it to his office and I slowly open his door just a sliver. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking over at the wall to the left of the door. I feel confident enough that he's not able to see the door from the way he's looking. I look over to see he's very concentrated on a bunch of photos hung up on the wall, which makes sense as he's a photography prof.

I take a mental image of the prof before I line up the shot, so I can compare the before and after in my mind. He's got buzz cut and a bushy salt and pepper beard. His frame is quite skinny but I can see a little bit of a belly and moobs under his shirt. That shirts definitely not doing him any favours, I wonder what it will look like on him after. His arms and legs are scrawny, with little fat or muscle on them. He's also wearing some camo shorts.

Now with his image locked in my head, I prepare a dart and like up the shot. Same with the raccoon, I blow as hard as I can and the dart lodges into the side of his belly. He flinches for a moment, but then stops in places. I can see his muscle twitching, as if they're cramping and freezing him in place. It all happens so quickly. It starts with his belly. His small belly grows in waves of soft fat, each wave packing dozens of pounds. Each wave makes his gut jiggle more and more as it grows rounder and rounder. His gut and his love handles spill over his waistline as his shirt rides up, revealing a stretched out belly button. Soon enough, it appears as though he stuffed a small beach ball into his stomach with how large it is. Though it is soon complemented by a growing pair of soft moobs. If what he had before were moobs, he now has full on man tits. They're soft and round, pressing tightly against his shirt. I can even see his nipples harden under the shirt. Next to fall is his ass. His once flat derriere quickly plumped up similar to his belly. Waves of fat perked up his ass as it threatened to rip through his shorts. The button on his pants popped off and flung across the office in dramatic fashion, leaving his fly wide open. His arms and his legs thickened slightly as a layer of fat covered them, though they stayed quite skinny in proportion to his body. Also, in the process, his beard had grown out and became almost all grey.

The entire time I could feel my dick riding up into my waist band. This was so much hotter than I expected it to be. I want to go in there and get my hands on that fatass so bad, but I have to have restraint. His muscles have stopped twitching and he seems back in control, though he still seems laser focused on the wall of photos. He reaches to scratch his belly and seems a bit shocked at the fact that he's scratching skin rather than shirt. "Huh, I coulda sworn this fit yesterday, musta shrunk in the wash." He shrugs, completely oblivious to the changes his body had just gone through. I don't know if I find it more or less hot that he seems to not care that he's a fatass. I don't have time to think about it though, as he starts to turn towards the door. I quickly grab my bag and run. I'll get to see him for photography class tomorrow anyway.

I think about who I want to hit next. I've got 6 darts left and plenty of profs on my list. Now that it seems safe, I'm more willing to go for profs I like. So I think one of the hottest prof off the top of my head. Mr. Ahmed. God he's hot. He's got perfectly toned skin, a thick black beard, and beautiful eyes. The only thing is he's quite skinny, and I like my men thick. So this is the perfect opportunity, and his office is close by.

I arrive at his office and see him just on his phone. My mouth salivates as I think about what I'm gonna do to him. I pull out a dart and shoot it. It lands right into his biceps and the green liquid rapidly drains from the dart. My hand instinctively drifts to my crotch as I wait in anticipation.

He froze in place, just like Henderson. But this time it started from his arm instead of his belly, it must be from wherever the dart hits. His once skinny arm swells, ripping his sleeve in the process. His forearm followed suit, growing a thick pelt of hair in the process as his delicate hand grew into a monstrous man hand. The transformation continued into his shoulders, then to his chest. His shoulders broadened, pushing his small shirt to its limits. Then his suddenly exploded outward, tearing straight through what was left of his shirt. Thick muscles now lay under thick man tits as they hand over his stomach. His already thick chest hair became more dense as his nipples grew large and sensitive. His other arm quickly grew just as large as the first, evening out his hulking body. His exposed belly went from flat to large and rotund in a matter of seconds, though it remained quite solid from strong muscle that grew below it. His gut befell a similar fate to the rest of his body, being covered in a layer of dark hairs.

His lower half quickly grew to match his upper half. Fat and muscle flooded into his ass and thighs until his dress pants ripped in dramatic fashion, leaving him in nothing but his extremely tight underwear, leaving little to the imagination. The legs continued to grow, and his feet seemed to grow at least five sizes, busting out of his shoes. Finally his facial features began to change. The rather young professor looked as if he aged 15 years in just moments as wrinkles and blemishes riddled his face, and his hairline receded slightly. His face also seemed to become a bit chubbier, matching his hulking gut.

He finally unfroze, seeming unfazed by changes in his body. He reached to stretch some of his muscles, I'm sure they're sore after such an intense transformation. But he quickly realized his lack of clothing and left to a backroom to find some. The idea that he wouldn't be able to find any clothes that remotely fit him made it all the more hot for me, but I got out before I got caught.

I was on top of the world, there was no way I would stop now. I thought about who to find next, and the choice seemed obvious. Mr. Salim, how could I forget the health and fitness prof. Ive never had him, but damn it is tempting to take a fitness class just to get to look at him more. He kinda looked like Mr. Ahmed but buff, cocky, and far more charming.

I quickly made it to the fitness building and found his office. I peaked in and saw him working out with his earbuds in, this was my shot. Without hesitation I load a dart and shoot. I chuckle quietly as I see the dart lodge into his ass. He goes to scratch his ass but fails to notice the dart, soon after he drops his weights and freezes in place. His already perky ass grows slightly, but not as much as I'd expect. Still enough to pants ride down his ass a bit, revealing a bright blue jockstrap. Of course Mr. Salim would wear a jockstrap. His thighs grow significantly, bulging with muscle to the point of ripping his pants. The rest of his legs follow suit, growing thick calves and massive feet.

I can see under his shirt that his waist is tightening up, which is surprising given that he's the first one to not get fat. A little disappointing if you ask me, but I'm not disliking what I see so far. His shoulders broaden and his chest puffs out, ripping right through his shirt. His arms nearly double in size, making his look like a bodybuilder as his hands grow to match. His face seemed to age as some of his hair turned grey. As he aged, his already hairy body became even more so, covering most of his body in thick salt and pepper hair. Even his stubble grew out into a thick silver beard.

Mr. Salim put down his weights, got up, and walked to the mirror in his office. He turned so he could see his ass in the mirror and snapped a photo.

A part of me was hoping to see him become a fat slob, something about fat gym teachers always got me going. But I certainly wouldn't complain about this view.

The health and fitness building is right beside geography and history, so I should head there. I try to think of a teacher I've had in this department. Maybe Mr. Smith? I had him for first year history and he's hot, I just remember him being a bit weird. That doesn't matter, I'm already on my way to his office.

I peak through his door and see him focused on his computer, perfect timing. I load a dart and shoot it. It hits him in the side of his thigh. Within moments I can see his jeans struggling to contain his growing legs. His jeans become even tighter as fat fills his ass, creating a loud pop sound as his belt snaps off.

His slim torso expands until he has a thick muscle gut and love handles that spill over his jeans. His chest grows into two strong but soft looking pecs that are impossible to miss through his tight shirt. His arms explode with muscle, making it look like they're gonna rip his sleeves. Finally his face fattens up a bit as a short beard covers his soft jawline.

Mr. Smith leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his tank of a gut.

It wasn't what I expected for Mr. Smith to be honest. I expected him to turn into a big fat history teacher, but he is hotter as a muscle chub. As I'm watching, he goes to unzip his jeans. He whips out his massive dick and starts to jerk off. Damn I didn't expect Mr. Smith to be packing that, but maybe it's a side effect of the darts. I keep watching until he swivels his chair in my direction, I can't risk being caught so I leave.

I look at my watch and realize I've lost track of time, I have a math class right now. I run across the campus to my math class and quietly sit at the back of the theatre.

I quickly get bored and wonder if I should hit Mr. Derrick with a dart in the middle of the lecture. It's risky but I'm bored so fuck it. I pull out the dart and try to shoot it as quietly as possible and it hits him square in the stomach. Mr. Derrick is a very scrawny man, so I'm curious about how it's gonna effect him.

As soon as he gets hit, he stops talking and freezes in place, but weirdly enough, no one in the class seems to notice. The man's skinny body explodes with fat. At first he grows a small pot belly, then a sizable beer belly, then it settles as a giant ball gut that looks like he stuffed a beach ball down his button up. I'm surprised his shirt has ripped yet. His chest grows two man tits that are visible through his shirt. The sleeve of his jacket starts to look like stuffed sausages as his fat arms fill out all the space in them. The man's thighs thicken until his pants start to rip and his fat ass causes his fly to rip open. Finally his clean shaven face grows a thick brown beard.

He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. His lack of awareness of his body makes even more hot. I can't believe he ended up that fat, I can see his gut spill out of his shirt each time he reaches up. And every part of his body bounces when he walks around. Eventually he ended up sitting down for the second half of the lecture, and he was often out of breath from just talking.

Once the lecture is over, I walk up to the front of the theatre and talk to Mr. Derrick.

"Hey, I've been struggling keeping up with the material lately, I was wondering if we could have a one on one session?" I ask him.

"Oh ya for sure, just come by during my office hours and I'd be happy to help." He responds. The man is practically panting at this point and I can see the sweat start to drench his beard.

"By the way, I don't think that shirt fits you anymore sir." I say just to make him uncomfortable. He just looks down, blushes, and runs off. Hobbling as fast as he can out of the theatre.

I got two darts left, I should use them wisely. The only teacher I can think of right now is Mr. Brown. His voice is so deep and buttery but his body doesn't match it, he's really skinny. I think he'd be better off as a bear anyway.

I make my way to the athletics facility, I've had him for French and English class, so I know where to find him. He works out around this time most days, so I make my way to the gym. As I walk to the gym, I see him in the corner of my eye in the showers. He's turned away from me, so I quickly take my shot, hitting him in the back. His back muscles grow and become more defined before a thick layer of fat covered them and creates thick rolls down his back. His stomach grows into a sizable belly with a thick belly button. His chest expands, first to juicy pecs, but then they slowly soften into a pair of moobs. His traps grow as his shoulders broaden, I also notice that he's getting taller, like a lot taller. He was shorter than me, but now his head is well above the shower head. His arms grow to match the rest of his hulking body.

Next his ass widened and started to sag slightly under its own weight. His thighs thickened until they rubbed together and his feet grew from a size 11 to a monstrous size 20. I also noticed his dick grow to at least 10 inches, if not more. All the while he was still getting taller, by now his shoulders were above the shower head. Finally his facial features became softer and fatter as the hair on his head fell out, although his stubble grew into a thick black beard.

As the transformation ends, Mr. Brown reaches behind him and grabs the dart out of his back. He's the only one to have noticed it. He looks at the dart for a moment, then turns toward me. I try to duck behind the wall, but I think he saw me. I hide in one of the bathroom stalls until I hear him leave, with the size of that man, it's not hard to tell where he's walking.

Once I can't hear him anymore, I rush out of the stall and grab my bag. But just as I reach the door, I bump into Mr. Brown. He's waiting at the doorway with a small green towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's this?" He says holding up one of my darts. Interestingly enough, it's a full one. The one I shot him with should be empty, so that means. Oh no. I look through my bag, the last dart is gone. Before waiting for a response, Mr. Brown just grabs my arm and jabs the dart into it.

I feel frozen in place. My clothes feel tighter and tighter until I hear them rip. I feel the warmth of the locker room air touch my bare skin. I start to feel itchy all over my body as my perspective shifts higher and higher. I feel so strong. I feel like I've grown a foot in height, but I'm still at eye level with Mr. Browns chest.

I finally gain control of my body and look down at the damage. I have thick pecs and a little bit of a belly, all covered in hair. Thick arms and legs, also covered in hair, actually my entire body is now covered in hair. And the bulge in my underwear is massive.

I turn my attention back to Me. Brown.

"Where did you get these?" He asks in his deep intimating voice. I stutter for a moment. "I'm not gonna snitch, I just got a few people I want to use it on." Mr. Brown asks. My fear turns to excitement as I realize the damage Mr. Brown and I are gonna do together.

[loveforsatoru]

Lots of things remind you of Satoru. The color blue, sweets, the evening just before the sun sets and the skies grow dark. Quite frankly, everything reminds you of him. Wherever you look, he’d always be there. You love him so much it makes you sick.

He deserved it, though. He was a good man, the best you’ve ever known. The least anyone could give him was love– and god did you give him more than enough to satisfy his soul for this lifetime and the ones to come. Because he, for someone who often thought logically and did not put much attention onto what happens after death, always knew that he would be yours and you would be his, everywhere out there in this infinite universe, even if he cannot hold you in all of them.

Just like now as you stand over his grave with an emotionless face and tears running down your cheeks, an umbrella over your head to shield you from the pouring rain which mirrors your tears, reminding you that the world moves on despite your inability to do the same.

Your days have blended together like a never ending loop since his death. You live the same thing over and over and over. Grief, tears, mourning, sadness. You wish you could forget the image of his severed body laying on the ground, covered in blood. It doesn’t feel real. Maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s just a bad dream and you’ll wake up soon, hopefully.

You’ve been standing here in the empty cemetery for hours. You haven’t eaten, haven’t slept, or uttered a single word. What’s the point? He’s not here to listen anymore.

You discard the umbrella, letting the rain soak you entirely, and sit in front of where he’s buried.

Satoru Gojo; loving teacher and husband. 1989-2018.

You gently trace your fingers over the engraved words, the same way you would over his cheeks when he’d come home from missions and fall right into your embrace– the place he always craved to be, where he should be right now.

During the entire fight, the only thing on his mind was you. You, you, you, you. And how badly he wanted to get it over with just so he could hold you and leave everything else behind.

He planned to retire after this final battle, so he could finally live a life of peace. Move away from Tokyo, perhaps to somewhere up in the countryside where the loudest sound in the morning would be that of chirping birds. He would go wherever the wind could take him as long as you were there, too. Without you, he’d feel like nothing.

It’s ironic, really. You’re the one who has to learn to live without him.

Part of you is expecting him to appear from thin air and wipe your tears away, telling you he’s here and he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

The final conversation with him was one you didn’t want to have. You waited outside the door while he spoke to Yuji, listening to every word before the younger boy left.

“Those kids won’t forget you, you know,” You say as you settle onto his lap and his hands find home on your waist.

“Yeah, but sometimes it feels that way,” He sighs, “Whatever happens, I’ll just have to accept it.”

You hum in response as he holds onto you a little tighter than usual and buries his face in your neck, drowning himself in you.

You let him do as he pleases, knowing you could never push him away even if you tried.

“You’re a little off,” You say softly. “Is everything okay?” You stare into his eyes, hoping to find some sort of warmth and reassurance amidst the clouds that swarm in them.

Of course it’s not. You can sense the little bit of doubt that radiates off of him. He wasn't the type to question his own abilities, but there’s a lot on the line, a lot to lose, a lot of you that he doesn’t want to let go of.

“You think so?” He tries to mask it with his usual tone. You can see right through it. “I’m a-okay. Don’t worry so much, sweetheart. You know me.”

“I do know you and that’s why I know you’re not a-okay. Talk to me, Satoru. Please.”

If this were any other day, he would, but it’s not. He just wants to hold and kiss you for as long as he can. He knows he might not be able to again.

“Let’s just stay here a little while. Forget about everything else for now,” He presses his lips against your temple and they linger for too long.

You huff in defeat and nod, because as much as you want to deny it, the impending feeling of doom won’t allow you.

“Okay.. but promise me you’ll be alright.”

It’s too much to ask for. He can’t make you a promise he can’t keep. You’re his wife, the love of his life. It would kill him even more to die knowing he broke the last promise he ever made you.

Instead, he pulls away to admire every detail of your face without a word.

“Promise me,” You repeat, “Promise me you’ll be okay, Satoru. I need to hear you say it.”

Your desperation is like a knife to his heart, but he can’t do that for you. This is the one thing he has to deny you no matter how badly he wants to bring you closer and say it’ll all be fine.

He hides his forming tears away with a chuckle, but there’s no humor behind it and kisses you like it’s the last time he will. It was. He remembers the way your lips taste even in death.

Sometimes, you can still hear his voice and the sound of his laughter rings in your ears. Nowadays, that’s the only thing that brings joy into your days. You don’t know yourself anymore. A part of you died with him and you’re afraid you’ll never be able to get it back.

You remember the way he smelt and the way his eyes would crinkle when he would smile a little too hard– mostly at you and your corny jokes that he found hilarious. The way he’d sing in the shower and hug you from behind before fully drying off while you prepared dinner because he knew it’d annoy you, but your scolds were never serious. He could tell with the way the corner of your lips threatened to curl upwards.

All of these cherished moments and many others have now become memories to remember him by. The day you forget any of it is the day you die, with your last request being to be buried right beside him.

Repeated sobs escape your once sealed shut lips. You cry and dig your hands into the muddy grass below you, clawing and clawing to seemingly reach the core of the earth and bring him back, but it won’t. Nothing will. You can’t do anything to bring him back and it rips you apart at the very center of your heart.

You’ll look for him in the skies, the wind, the trees, the color blue, sweets, the evening just before the sun sets and the skies grow dark, and anything and everything else. Until one day, your time will also come and you’ll be reunited once again.

But for now, all you can do is cry. And you do, everyday without fail because any life would be better than one without him.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

[bunji-enthusiast]

hiii i just saw your lancelot x vampire!reader and i loveddddd it!!! i was wondering if you could do lancelot x tristan's (twin/younger whos like 15) sister??? idk just thought it would be cute

anyway hope you have great day/night!!!♡

The thousands of fluffy scenarios one could dream up is absolutely adorable, anyway I hope you like this! Have a great day/night as well anon ❤️

Your elder brother's supposed best friend Lancelot was quite the cheeky bastard you've come to know him as, but there wasn't to say that he had quite a decent amount of other sides to him. So you had wondered if you were ever going to be very close friendship-wise to find that out however.

Despite the soul-sucking hardships of life that came with growing up, being around him and your family had been made a lot easier. Though you were worried to say the least when he had disappeared a few years back, and was somehow a completely different person. As if his power was now vastly different then yours.

The sense of longing to know him again, was like a pit of despair you had no reason to want to make friends with. but life eventually pitted you against the vary thing you waned to experience, of course life always finds a way. That stupid little saying you always heard your mother say, worms into your mind for situations like these.

Every whisper is turning into voices that you began to discern as noises, the crumbling cesspit of despair that banged at the door of your mental fortitude. You always ignored the pain of what it did to you, you wanted to remain ignorant to whatever have may have happened to Lancelot. The distant look in his eyes sometimes, made your heart hurt.

Of course you had no place in the matter, only watching from far ahead as you had trained to get stronger, to get even better then your elder brother. The nagging pool of thoughts welling in your mind, eating away at your mind and will, scolding you for your inability to be unable to offer just a bit of help at all. You really hated it, but it had often made you wonder about other things, if it was ever like this for your mother and father. Tristan too, the burdens placed upon your brother's shoulders must inconvenience every aspect of his life.

Only you wished you could be none the wiser, and just be a little dumber. Rarely had you been offered chances to rest, be at peace and allow your mind to re-charge and stay ready.

The sheets were itchy, and the wind blowing across the shattered scars of the glass made your mind wrought with awakened thoughts. No sleep could overcome you, and it was a harsh inability as you clambered over to the balcony of your room–compared in stark contrast to your brother’s large bed and room, you had a small bed but a view like nothing else. 

Another day came and went, and you had nothing unique to show for it as another vein of your useless work came to be part of the royal family. You let out a low growl, sighing as your thoughts buzzed incessantly, becoming your only noise of conversation as you admired the stars. 

“That sad mood of yours can really kill one.” Your eyes flickered over to the source of the voice, familiar as it is. You couldn’t find it in yourself to use whatever energy you had to look, for that matter. 

“Look who’s talking.” You snickered in response, making him roll his eyes. White shoes clacked against the resounding hard-stone floor, you could feel the warmth ease right up to your side. It had almost made you want to ease right up to his side, a natural habit of gravitation in the human-like body to crave warmth if the body was otherwise cold. 

Looking down was often an act you regret, even from the security of the stone-railings, heights had always scared you. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, yet his tone seemed to be so… soft? As if he was considering the noise level for your comfort, but you sincerely didn’t want to narrow down on such a miniscule thing for no reason. So you shook your head, your eyes blinking to a close. Sleep clambered onto the edges of your eyes, and you really hated that, everytime you really were about to fall asleep–it ran away from you. 

With all the energy you could muster; “Not really.”

“You?” You asked, trudging your hand from the dusty cracks of the railing, resting your head against the smallness of your palm. Lancelot hums, an agreeable noise in response. 

One blink, two. You wondered what he was here for, but you weren’t awake enough to care or know why. So you kept the thoughts to yourself, and kept wondering as Lancelot’s company seemed to be staying longer then expected. 

Like whom a moth frolics, it was always attracted to a flame. 

“Do you ever feel powerless sometimes?”

The question hung in the air, as if it were an unspeakable thing you had decidedly dared to utter. You didn’t know what else to say, but you couldn’t stand the silence that wrangled far and high between the both of you. 

Maybe that was a definite answer. 

His eyes flickered over to yours, brief and unseeing. Yet Lancelot hadn’t allowed his gaze to linger any longer, “Plenty of times.” 

Your eyes shone with a derelict diamond, roughened in surprise at the admittance to your question. Seemingly starred such a vein and vulnerable air stout about Lancelot’s being; and you weren’t the mind reader here. 

And up high above, the stars shone brightly, as if they were commending the blonde teenager for something that would otherwise be such a difficult thing to admit. “Glad to know I'm not the only one then.” You said, letting out a breathy laugh. 

Oh way down the vice grips of your mind, you wished you would've said something completely different. But being social, let alone with someone you would know since childhood is a difficulty like no other. 

Falling was eternally a state of mind, you weren’t: brave, fearful, strong, or kind. No good qualities to note out of the two bodies standing still at the cold top of the castles, looking out from the safety of the balcony. A teasing chuckle tore you out of your thoughts, causing you to shoot him a glare, not unprepared for whatever Lancelot may say next. 

“Being vulnerable and being strong naturally equate to the same thing.” He mentions, nodding at you. 

A spotty habit, residual of your childhood years where you had sometimes joined Lancelot and Tristan in their bouts. The teasing and the banter, it was something you had come to expect come that time and age, and truly was a breath of fresh air more or less. 

You sigh, propping your chin up against the flat of your palm, “What are you implying?”

“You need to get something off your chest.”

Immediately, you rose with caution. Taking heed as you adjusted yourself, moving your elbows from the dusty pins of cracks within the stone-railing and instead leaning on your hands now. 

“It really isn’t important.” You warned, watching as Lancelot raised his hands in surrender. Yet something deep within those eyes of his told you something. 

Was he… worried about you?

[mushroomwoods]

fear(less)

After a few months of travelling together it was only to be expected that they would catch onto your little habits, especially if it was one that put you in harms way so many times.

characters — Chain, romantic or platonic (platonic only!Wind)

warnings — gore&blood, !depiction of deep wounds!, canon-typical violence, reader is reckless™ and has no sense of self-preservation, a sliver of harmful thoughts (sky!time!), poorly described battles; mild angst with comfort (hyrule!), hints of player!au.

Wow, i finally finished this thing, took me longer than i thought. Anyways, there are a few parts that don't really follow the game line of battle, as I've adapted some things just... because i thought it'd be fun, but i hope you guys enjoy it all the same. Also tagging the dearest @cloudninetonine, didn't know which blog you would prefer so i used the one more related to LU, i hope it is up to your standards, Cloud. also, i said twi part was long? you can't wait to see legend's then.

At first it wasn't anything too eye catching.

The heroes already knew you were... hopeless when it came to fighting, the few experiences in combat you had beside them proved as much, and they didn't mind it, you helped them enough around the camp, always eager to do something when it was possible.

And while they did train you enough to at least hold out on your own in urgent cases, they didn't expect you to become a seasoned warrior like most of them, you had no need or obligation to, after all, not being bound by duty like them.

However, a few experiences in battle were enough to prove them, that yes, your less than ideal choices, were, against all odds, made rationally.

Timeʼ

It was an oversight.

A terribly, horrid, oversight.

One that, goddess fobid, could've costed your life, as you full on charged at the monster trapping him under it's claw, sending both you and the shadow beast toppling over, a disorienting groan falling from your lips as you crashed onto the floor, barely escaping the clawed hands that reached out for you, your unsteady dominant hand, trying to grip hard enough at the hilt of your sword so you could finally, finally, thrust it into the dizzying mark in it's chest.

And then, as it lifted, ready to pounce back into your form, you got the chance to see it's weakness, barely, but enough. With not an ounce of hesitation, you gave up trying to make your, now useless, dominant hand to obey you, and switched you weapon, lurching under the monster and stabbing the glowing red skin, a surge of black blood dripping into your face and clothes as the monster disappeared into itself.

“Name!” Time finally got it into himself to call you out, armored form rushing to your side at an abnormal speed.

You looked back at him, still a very gruesome, bloody messy as you gave him a victorious grin, but he couldn't find it in himself to worry about that in the moment, just wanting to check if you were too injured from the battle, but just as he was two steps in, your face morphed into something akin to panic, stumbling hurriedly into your own feet and frantically running to him.

“Wait! Beside you!” Your shout was enough to alert him, shield quickly lifted as he bashed the monster into the ground, yet, his vision blurred at the sudden movement, body still weak from the hit he'd taken previously.

He felt your hand on his back, trying to keep him steady as the other swung the blade in front of you, the metal making an annoying screech as it made contact with the black mask, which only seemed to anger the monster further, pushing forward at an ungodly speed with it's tentacles trashing around.

In the heat of the moment, you mustered all the strength you could, pushing the hero to the side — a feat that was only possible because of his weakened state — as you took the full impact, body falling to the ground with a crushing thud, you winced, but still pushed forward, the blood pumping through your body giving you the last bit of adrenaline you needed to finally ground the monster, watching it slowly disappear as the aches in your body only now started to settle.

You could hear Time thunderous voice from beside you, but it sounded so distant, yet so loud, you could only close your eyes in hopes the tinning in your ears would stop.

You felt a cool hand — a metal plate? — settling against your burning cheeks, Time eye scanning you fully, rambling quickly about something as he seemed to shout to someone on the other side of the battlefield, you tried to laugh at his worry, only being able to hack a cough, throat clogged with blood.

You could see him turning his head back to you, mouthing a “don't leave me yet” at you, you grinned.

“Not before you, old man.” You saw him frown and was quick to add. “Don' worry, 'ts not the time yet.” You couldn't wait for his answer, face drooping into his shoulder as your vision blackened.

You could only hope he would lessen his nagging from next time you woke up, pitying your battered state.

Twilightʼ

It seemed that ever since he got into this adventure, with eight other unsettling versions of himself, plus an unassuming you, his luck whenever he transformed with the twili magic pummelled — yes, even more than in his own aventure, wasn't he sufficiently unlucky during his trials.

It was an unfamiliar Hyrule, and both you and him, well, Wolfie, had assumed the responsability of checking the sorrounding areas for any threat.

And what a threat it had, a swarm of dynalfos madly chasing after the both of you, a few too rough swing of their weapons barely catching at your tearing tunic as you tried tirelessly to keep up with the wolf speed.

“Fuck! I thought these bastards didn't wander in groups, what the heck are they even doing out in the open!?” As much as Twilight would like to agree with you at the moment, he could only let out a huff in the bestial form.

You gritted your teeth, pushing your legs until they were burning with the strain, never losing speed in fear they might actually catch up with you, as you rummaged through your backpack, probably looking for anything that might work, since your sword proved to be pretty damn useless against their gauntlets.

“Hey Wolfie, do you trust me?” He barely spared you a glance, quickly noticing the bomb you recklessly lightened in your arms. “Because if you don't, you might as well go on your own way.”

He tried to yelp as you didn't let go of the bomb even as the fire engulfed almost all of the rope, your hands shaking in what he assumed to be fear, though at this point it might as well be excitement, with the maddening smirk that played in your lips.

Waves of roars and shrieks resounded behind the both of you just as you threw the bomb back, the object exploding not even a few seconds after, as you made sure to hold it until the last possible second, so they wouldn't be able to throw the object back at you and make the situation even worse. Flames licked just short of your backs, threatening to burn both the strap of your leather bag and the tip of Wolfie's tail.

You cussed under your breath, legs stopping, as you turned around to face the enemies, now finally weakened enough for the both of you to at least try to face head on.

“If I'm right, they're from the captain's Hyrule, so we don't have much time to take them down.” You saw the wolf tail flick, as if in understanding, and you took that as a signal to rush foward, hearing his steps right behind you.

You surged foward, striking the monsters with the barely retained memories of the hellish training the captain had drilled into you, almost finishing off your enemies when you heard your companion yelp, a dinolfo having grabbed at his tail just as he tackled another of the oversized lizards into the ground, just as he was about to turn, ready to maul whatever got him, a wooden shield flew past his nose, right into the monster head, sending it into it's back, completely unmoving.

When the both of you were finally finished, it was nothing more than a gory mess, guts splattered all over as the both of you laid in the midst of the atrocious visage, panting and bleeding, the man long since turned into his original form, throwing all his care into the wind as he made himself comfortable beside you.

“We have to report it back to them, especially since these fuckers must be from the captain world.” You muttered, breathing heavy as you tried to lift your arm, only a groan making it past your mouth.

The man laid beside you only mumbled in agreement, not actually moving to get up, and actually throwing an arm over your body, making sure you wouldn't get out of there until the two of you at least got some rest.

Yeah, he could let the nagging wait a bit more, for now the thought of a little rest just seemed so much better than going back only to hear how reckless the both of you were to actually act alone.

He then frowned as if remembering something, face turning to you.

“How many times did we tell ya not to thrown the shield.” His voice was exasperated and you all but glared at him.

“Ah c'mon! It works!”

Warriorsʼ

“Get down!” A cry in your voice was enough for the warrior to follow through your orders, barely dodging a monster attack on the right as you nimbly shifted to his side, blocking an aerial attack with the shield Wild had lent to you weeks ago.

He hadn't thought much of the occurrence, as one of the archers in the group quickly sent the monster down, and you dealing a final blow without much trouble, what he didn't expect, however, was to find you barely a few hours after the battle kneeled beside a water body trying to wash down an conspicuous amount of blood off the arm you had previously wielded the shield with.

“Name? Did you get hurt? You could've asked me for a potion if your stock ran off, Hyrule would've also helped, we didn't have many casualties today.” He was quick to close off the distance, even as you seemed to do your best to avoid any type of contact with the hero.

“The stock is running low...” You started, low voice, but as he didn't budge, waiting for a more plausible excuse you saw no choice but to continue. “and there's still shards in my arm, it wouldn't be helpful to heal it as it is.”

Azure eyes ran over what he previously thought to be only stains and clogs of blood over the grass, only now noticing how it shimmered under the light, pieces of what seemed to be freshly cut flesh clinging into the sharper edges.

Warriors rushed to your side, hands grabbing firmly at your shoulder and wrist, fresh blood quickly oozing into his own pristine robes, but he didn't mind, not as he noticed just how serious what he thought to only be a light wound actually was. He suppressed a frustrated groan as he heard in inhale sharply at his prodding in the less open part of the wounds.

“How did this happen?” His voice was sharp, clearly not giving you a chance to even try and escape from him.

“Nothing...” A sharp glare was enough to make you stop, clearing your throat before continuing. “The kargarocs clawed at my arm just as Wild's shield shattered. It was just that, besides, it's not as bad as it look.”

The way you winced when his fingers flexed a little too harshly around your wrists was enough to betray your own words, yet you didn't back down, not until you saw Link's face morphing from a frown into the most —fake— dashing smile you've seen him send your way.

“If it's not that bad, then i guess you wouldn't mind a little help.” The way his eyes didn't match his smile was enough of a warning of the hell he'd put you through for not taking care of yourself in the first place.

“Wait, no—”

Your loud scream resonated through the quiet forest, as the man all but huffed, taking out the shards littering your arms with a gentle, yet rigid touch.

Too bad, it was already too late, maybe this way you'll learn to stay out of trouble next time.

Hyruleʼ

He couldn't say he was thrilled to get back to his own Hyrule, while, yes, it was comforting to recognize the vegetation around, much like the many hiding spots he found during his tireless adventures, he still felt much too paranoid to parade around the existing bustling town, a gnawing feeling at the back of his head saying — screaming — that as long as he was there, the hunt for his head would prevail.

So with such thoughts, he didn't think much of letting you talk with some of the locals, much too unrelated to the hero to pose any apparent threat to the villagers, as he hid himself just short of your eyesight, as the both of you waited for the rest of the group to buy whichever necessities you were still lacking from the journey.

What he didn't expect was to suddenly hear an almost guttural growl from you, as you tensed up from the previously amicable chat, his body turning just in time to see you land a punch straight into the other person nose, blood cascading instantly down your fist.

From there it went downhill, the other two person joining in the brawl you seemed to start without a care as Hyrule rushed to your side, trying to both protect you, while also pulling you out of the fight.

“Stop that, Hyrule! I'll kill those bastards!” You voice resounded with so much unfiltered hatred, that he considered that your threats may actually turn out be true, wasn't he quick enough to act.

He had always thought of you as calm and collected, a little silly sometimes, but that was about it, yet as he saw you snarling at the opposing group, having to almost wrestle you out of the place, he could see just how soft you actually were to the group of heroes.

The traveller regretted having put out his power bracelet in fear of hurting anyone too much, as throwing your fighting form over his shoulder and setting back proved to be much harder than when he did same with the usual pacific you, his steps thumped loudly against the dry grass, the sound of angered shouts getting more and more distant with the passing seconds, along with your own, which died into tiny sobs and hiccups.

When he noticed your chasers weren't on your tails anymore, he finally stopped, breathing hagged as he carefully lowered you to the floor, hands instantly coming to cup your face carefully, thumbing at the tears, worried expression as he checked your body for any wounds, his magic making quick work on any he spotted.

“Now now, what's the problem? What happened.” He watched as the tears didn't stop, yet you frowned in annoyance.

Not at him, of course. Never at him.

You pursed your lips, teeth gritting as you finally started talking, a sigh falling regretfully from your lips.

“Those bastar—” A quiet hush from him forced you to stop, his eyes never letting yours leave his. “They” You growled “were acting like you were nothing more than a curse. It's not fair that you get this type of treatment after all you did to save those people.”

His smile grew a little, strong arms engulfing you in a warm hug, your own slithering across his back naturally as he leaned into your shoulder.

“I don't care about those things.” Not for as long as I have you. “But thank you, Name.” His soft hum was quiet against your ear, and that was all the comfort the both of you could ever need, tightly wound in each other embrace.

Legendʼ

Legend was against the whole plan.

Especially when it took place with you acting as the bait, taking the unlucky lot while they drawed each person role.

He gritted his teeth, looking regretfully at the Pegasus Boot and the defense ring he placed in your hands, while you laughed awkwardly.

“You don't have to give me that, you know. I know how to battle, maybe not as much as you guys, but I can handle on my own.” You tried, pushing the items back into his hands, but he stepped back before you would force him to take, his frown only getting deeper.

“I know.” Was his only answer, to which you quirked your brow quizzically and he huffed. “We all watched your progress in battle, still, it just feels wrong to leave someone behind.”

Warriors was about to make a teasing comment about his unusual character, when Twilight jabbed at him, forcing the knight to bend over.

Time sighed as he watched the veteran so restless, drawing the attention back to him.

“Then the veteran stays back with Name.” The oldest sent a teasing smirk your way, which the others seemed to not notice, as he turned back to the rest of the group. “The rest of us will go as planned, Wild come with me, Warriors with Wind and Hyrule with Twilight. Get ready by the doors and make sure to come back before the time runs out.”

You prepared to start the mechanism of the dungeon, pulling the lever when the acting leader nodded. You and the veteran watched as they all disappeared into the passages, stone doors closing behind them as soon as they left, leaving the place you stood only barely lightened by the scarce torches lit around the walls.

The first wall to light up was the one in the right, where the traveller and ranch hand had disappeared into, both you and Legend walking up to it to take a closer look at the glowing blue scriptures.

“Only when the sun is lit, can the lost ones be found.”

It was easy enough, you looked around the room, soon finding a tile carved with the sun marking, Legend didn't think much before using the fire rod on it, the first pillar lightening up in blue, the form of a child carved into it.

The second wall lightened up, this time from Wars and Wind side.

“Only a cup of water can sate one's thrist.”

Sound of dripping water started to resonate around the room, the statue glow dimming as the child now bent over it's form, tears welling down the pillar. You took the bowl beneath it, already half full as you looked back at your partner, who pointed at the drying flower who bloomed among the stone path. You watered it, the flower blooming back to life, a golden key appearing between it's petals. The veteran didn't think much before picking it up, the second pillar lighting up with a garden.

As the third and last wall lightened up, the torches were blow off, all lights around the room turning from a soft blue to bloody red.

"A true warrior may carve it's path upon the enemies blood.”

Gears started to sound around the room, the torches blow off and the only light around now being the poor scriptures that barely let you count the fingers in your hands.

The child statue now stood as a imposing adult holding a sword, the tears that fell turning into a river of blood, and the garden pillar now turning into a fire caught wasteland.

A opening appeared on the ceiling, in which Keeses started pouring over like ants, Legend took the fire rod, knowing that with a single hit he could take at least a few of them down, however just as he was about to shot the magic, it died down altogether.

“What!?” He shouted exasperated, trying again in a futile attempt.

You looked at him, drawing your bow, hoping to even get a few down from how bad your eyesight got in the dark place.

He followed your example, grumpy about his malfunctioning item as he gripped onto his sword, taking down any that got too close to the floor.

As you were finally setting a rhythm, you started hearing a buzzing, looking into the hero direction the see the electro keese closing in on him.

“Vet!” You hand hooked at the hero tunic, all but throwing him to the other side, the monster reaching you as it's electric aura engulfed your body in an excruciating pain.

...

Or not. You blinked, looking up from your kneeling form, the hero running up to your side, as a disheveled mess, trying to look for injuries on your body, the red lights returning to a blue hue, and torches lighting back as the doors clinked open.

“But only true heroes won't think before saving a dear one.” The sailor voice sounded behind you, apparently reading the newly lightened wall who led you to the next room. “Whatever happened to the both of you here?” He asked, confused face as he stared at the both of you.

As you and Legend looked at each other face, clear confusion written all over it, the both of you nodded at each other.

“Nothing.”

Wildʼ

Wild could somehow feel the consequences of his actions catching up with him.

His hands tightened around your wrist, tugging you along with him as you ran from the lynel positively huffing like a bull as it ran behind you. He felt like this would be the feeling Twilight felt whenever he saw him running to do some things stupid.

Why did he just have to give in to your pleading eyes when you asked him to show you how to hunt a lynel?

He could see you stealing glances at the monster from the corner of his eyes, your figure pretty much laid back even when you knew — or at least he thought so — that thing could send you flying with a single hit.

When it's axe was lifted, you shifted to the side, pulling Wild out of its reach and almost sending the both of you colliding to the floor.

“I think I understand it now!” You shouted at him, blood pumping so hard from the adrenaline you almost couldn't hear yourself.

And with that, Wild felt a bad sense of premonition, his gut sinking as he recognizer that look on your face. The same look he had when he first tried to beat a lynel, before he was beaten half to death and ran back to formulate another plan, and while it was... well, different from the first, it certainly wasn't optimal.

He looked at you, face bewildered as he whisper shouted a “no”, hand tightening around yours as if he was the leash keeping a child from doing something idiotic, yet you only huffed and rolled your eyes.

“You do it, why can't I?” You whined and he considered begging for Twilight's forgiveness for every shit he put his mentor through. “Besides, you're here to help me, we can just retreat if you think it's getting too dangerous.”

He sighed, before pointing to the bottom of the hill, a large lake surrounding the area.

“If it get dangerous I'll use cryonis and we'll get out of here, no if's and but's, okay?” You grumbled out and his eyes thinned. “Okay?” He repeated himself.

“Okaaaay.” You drawled out, charging to the point he pointed, letting go of his hand as he attracted the lynel to he area.

It started fairly well, he attracted the monster to him while you shot it from the side, his bow trainings paying off as you hadn't hit the blonde man a single time yet. And hopefully you wouldn't for the rest of the battle.

Just as you were about to pull the last arrow, you saw the shining, massive axe in the hands of the lynel start flying towards your direction, the young hero quickly telling you to run towards the lake.

Your mind raced as you thought of your options, eyes flashing from Link's place near the lake to the weapon flying your way sickeningly fast, the bow dropping from your hand as you took the claymore strapped to your hip.

Wild's face dropped, heart sinking as he could already read your thoughts. Damned be the day he tried to teach you how to parry.

You waited. Waited. Wait... And then with a sharp, deafening sound the ginormous weapon was sent flying, it lasted less than a second, yet for you it seemed as if the world had stopped, you felt like you could understand, even if a little, when Wild talked about how the world seemed to slow down around him when he was battling.

Before you could turn to the hero to celebrate, you felt a heavy punch landing into the side of your head, sending you flying back, vision wavering.

He would have to teach you not to take your eyes off the enemies in battle it seemed, he sighed running up to finish dealing with the monster before you were too beaten up.

Windʼ

It was just your luck.

The dungeon had separated the whole group, and while you weren't too worried about only you and Wind forming a duo, you were quite worried for whose world it was now.

All of the heroes eras were quite the catastrophe, however Time's was an utter mess, especially with the happenings of Majora Mask he had to deal while still a child.

You gritted your teeth, pulling the younger one beside you by the arm, as he whined something about being able to take them on.

“Look Wind, I know you're competent and all, I also understand that you know how to deal with them, however you have to understand that these are not the ReDeads from back at your world.” You pursed your lips as you heard their screeching approaching.

The young hero huffed, finally accompanying your steps on his own, instead of being dragged like dead weight.

“So, any plan?” His pout was very much visible, in your mind at least, as the corridors were dark enough for you to trip over your own feet sometimes.

“You betcha, sailor.” You only hoped it would actually work. “Think you could play a song right now?”

You could feel Wind's judgemental stare right through your skull, but when you did nothing but press him for an answer he giggled madly.

“I don't know what you're brewing up, but I hope it'll be fun.” The boy grabbed onto your hand, sprinting even faster, pulling you through some many doors and corridors of what you thought to be the correct path, until you could see a few barely visible flashs of light streaming down from the ceiling, the first room you had fallen into when you first entered the dungeon, the bars showing only enough for the both of you to see the shadow of your faces, giggling as if the monsters that followed you wouldn't just up and kill the both of you with as much as a single touch.

You quickly scampered further into the light, knowing it would only be enough to slow them down for a little, before you started talking lowly, not considering the earlier fits of laugh would be enough to alert all of the monsters around of your exact position.

“I assume you don't have your mirror with you.” The sailor nodded, almost rolling his eyes at the predictability, but before he could voice his complaints you continued. “But you wouldn't come without your wand, right?”

He now raised an eyebrow, mouthing an “Of course”, as you nodded to yourself.

“Let's pray that it counts as an magical instrument, get it and try to follow the music I'll hum to you.” You barely got him any chance to process before humming the Sun Song you'd grew so familiar over the time.

The boy just looked at you as if you were crazy, grabbing onto the item and hurriedly trying to follow along, a few tries in and the both of you huffed, patience running thin as a strew of curses fell from the boys lips, something you thanked the goddess above that the Hero of Time or the Hero of Twilight weren't there to see.

You groaned, exasperated, as the monsters were now only a few feet away from you both, you pressed him further up into the wall, fully covering his body from the monsters view, almost like a living bait, a thing he'd certainly nag at you later.

In the desperation you whistled the song, praying it was sufficiently in tune for him to relate to the sound of the wind he often listened to while on his journey.

“C'mon, three, three, five!” You prayed, a phantom touch at your neck sending chills down your spine as if sucking your life force, while you tried to whistle the tune again.

“Got it!” He exclaimed, a whirlwind forming around you both as the light shone even brighter above the both of you, almost like the salvation light, the wave of monster falling slowly with shrill screams, one you'd hope to never hear again.

You finally let go of his arms, body trembling so much you could only topple down as tears streamed down your cheeks, the bone chilling presence of their touch still very much vivid in you mind, as the younger one could only rub your shoulders soothingly, knowing full well you took most of the hits in order to keep him safe.

He sighed, resolved to let your actions slide this one time, with a tired smile.

“Thank you for trying to protect me, let's rest a little and then well go back to the others.” His voice was way less chirpier than usual, you nodded, leaning one against the other, finally able to get a breather under the warm light casted over the two of you.

Skyʼ

It was somewhat stupid, honestly.

You knew fully well that all of those men had full capacity to take over at least a dozen monsters more than you, without even breaking a sweat, no less, especially the local lazy eyed hero who seemed to enjoy his little naps a little more than it was healthy and just happened to take over a god all by himself.

You knew it, yes, but your stupid body decided to move before your brain could fully process what was even happening.

“Sky, that...” You lightly tugged at the hem of the skyloftian armor, eyes focused on the strange spikes fluctuating dangerously beside the hero.

The form seemed familiar, but you only were able to fully recognize it when little eyes peeked through the sand wasteland, the man beside you now standing in full alert as his eyes seemed to catch onto the same thing as you.

The whole group stopped, now looking back at the two of you, but as you tried to point towards the enemy to explain you wouldn't have to battle as long as you avoided it's vision, you could see from the corner of your eyes one of the more reckless from the group charge full on at the little monster.

“Wait, it'll explode!” Sky tried to warn, a little too late as it's body expanded, sending projectiles of poisonous darts around.

Thankfully Wild was quick enough to react a pull a shield to protect himself, and the others were far enough not to get in the way, however as both you and the Hero of the Skies were the one who stood closer to it, you had taken the full brunt of the blow, fully ducking the hero behind your form.

You gasped as you felt the thorns ripping through your flesh, the feeling way more painful than you had expected at first, tears prickling at the corner of your eyes as you all but hollered at Wild.

“Don't go touching it, you dumbass! Just blow it away!” You winced when the hero held in your arms moved to trace the sides of your wounds, a wince of his own sounding as he saw his bloodied gloves.

“Don't move, it'll hurt.” Sky voice was still collected, but you could see his eyes wavering a bit, knowing full well how terrible it was to receive one of these attacks head on, he sighed. “Why did you protect me? My armor was enough to take it.”

It was unusual to hear the usually so pacific hero grumbling around like that, but you could barely focus on that as you felt his hands making quick work of removing the most superficial ones from your skin, the scalding hot feeling of the poison in the open wounds soon melting off as Hyrule made a quick work of staying beside you to heal the wounds.

“I panicked, besides, if it was a black blooded monster, who knew what else he'd— shit! Do?” You felt your knees weakening, even as he held you upright, so you gave in to muffling a cry into his shoulder as he took off a particularly hard spike buried in the side of your waist.

“So you did this even considering it was a mutated monster?” You could feel he bit off another sigh. “Really, you're the only one reckless enough to throw yourself in to protect a hero.” He patted your head in a comforting touch to tell it was over. “But don't go thinking I'm not mad at you and Wild. The both of you should stop acting so recklessly already, it'll worry all of us.”

You could hear Wild whining off at some distance, as you held the urge to do the same, as you knew the boy could be as scary as Time if pushed far enough.

Fourʼ

The short hero was quite used to be underestimated, and at first he thought you'd fall under the same category of people who judged his strength based on his height alone.

It was a pleasant surprise for him when he could finally notice your protectiveness came from a place of care, actually.

What wasn't pleasant, however, was how, no matter how much you knew that the hero was much stronger than you, you couldn't let go of this worrisome habit of always putting his safety and comfort before yours.

Especially now, where you, and the four parts of the little hero battled away against a wave of skulltulas, the monsters easy enough for you and the four heroes to tackle on, however their sheer amount was enough to give you a harder time dealing with them.

You sidestepped, back meeting with Green's, hearing him chuckle before branding his sword to the right, striking down two of the monsters with a single attack, you and Red joining hands so the smaller one could easily acess the weak spot of a specially tough one.

However, things seemed way messier at the other side, Blue and Violet having to deal with just as much as the three of you, while also sparing jabs at each other, harsh comments over the other clumsiness as they rashly brandished their sword, clearly tired of the long running battle.

“It doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon.” You muttered, both of the man beside you nodding in agreement. “Should we just take off?” You offered, an instant disagreement falling from both Blue and Violet.

“If its a swarm this big, it could reach one of the nearby cities.” Red made an actual helpful comment, to which you sighed.

You held your tongue, knowing none of them would appreciate you making any comments about their far too heroic side, putting your focus back on the battle.

It didn't take much longer for the wave of Skulltulas to actually start to thin out and finally take the last one on. Tge five of you finally lowered you weapons, watching as the last of the enemies disappear in a black mist.

The only sound now being your heavy breathings and the rustling of the trees above you. You looked up, heaving a sight and watching as the leaves above your head danced from one side to another along with the wind, only now noticing a strange light, or actually, a lack thereof.

“Hey guys..?” You started, as they looked at you. “I guess i know why they were so mad at us now.” They followed your line of sight, a gasp sounding behind you, which you didn't bother naming whose it was.

A skulltula — if you could even call it that, at this point — hung over the trees, it's web big enough to cover a whole house, the monster only shying a little in question of size.

“Are you guys sure you still want to play hero?” Surprisingly, it wasn't you this time, but Violet.

You shook you head, already knowing their answers, as you hooked your fingers under your bow, pulling one arrow and readying to fire under their command.

“Well.... like it or not, we are heroes.” Blue stated, giving you the signal.

You shoot the arrow, the object hitting bullseye into one of the monster's eye, not that it was too difficult from it's sheer size.

With a thundering roar, it dropped down from it's web, the natural floor shaking under your feet as you stepped back to gain the distance advantage this time, the split hero standing in front of you to act like a bait.

The four of them each had gone to one side of the monster, as you made another clear shot, this time taking one of its hind leg, the blood spraying in a somewhat gruesome way you hadn't had the chance to notice when fighting the smaller one.

Just as you were about to shot another of its legs, you heard a groan, Blue falling to the ground as the monster charged into him. You gritted your teeth, lowering the bow as you pulled your sword from your waist and running up to him without a second thought, stopping in front of him, and parrying the oncoming attacks however you could as Blue still seemed disoriented from the fall.

What you didn't take into account was how heavy it's attack would be now that it had the added weight of it's sheer size, you lightly hissed when it's fang bit into your left shoulder, almost dropping the weapon out of reflex, but you clenched your jaw, forcing your fingers to remain flexed into the sword hilt, then thrusting it into the spider's many eyes when it finally let go of you, it's bug juice overflowing into you and your wound, only making it sting more.

Barely a few seconds after you could see the monster disappearing, as Violet and Green each cut one side of the monster, the skulltula disappearing into a black matter quickly as you heaved a sigh, the five of you finally regrouping into the center of the clearing.

“Did I already say that I hate spiders? Because if not, now I do.” Violet said, clearly disheartened at the whole ordeal, to which you only nodded in agreement.

[krypt-kir]

For a friend who cares

A short little drabble for a friend who feels like their words aren't effective.

Main: Bash/Mixtape!BF (Mine), YS/HitSingle!Yourself (@ochrearia) Mentioned: Beef (@gemharvest)

---------------------

Bash had another nearly sleepless night. Beef was still passed out on the sofa, and he was sitting on the floor with the coffee table in front of him, holding his phone and scrolling through the pictures he took last night.

They had a lot of fun together. Being rowdy and letting loose. Something about nighttime just felt more freeing. No worries about what we need to do while the sun is still out. No errands you could possibly run when everything has closed. No one who'd call you up for anything unless it's an emergency.

It was nice to forget about being an adult for a while.

There was a brief ache in Bash's chest at that thought. The idea he'd lose that sense of fun.

He glanced at Beef.

There could be a day where they grow apart.

He held his phone a little tighter, pushing the thoughts away and getting up. He hoped that brief blip of sorrow wasn't noticable to YS. That guy had enough to worry about as it was. He didn't need more to worry about and it would make him feel like shit.

He went to the bathroom to wash his face when he saw YS staring back at him with a disappointed look. Crap.

"Uhh…heyyy…" Bash smiled awkwardly, knowing he was about to get chewed out.

"Staying up late isn't good for you. Y'know that, right?" The other said.

Yeah. Bash knew that. God. This felt like being chewed out by his parents a little bit. "What can I say? I'm a night owl." He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to pass it off as joking with a chuckle.

"Bash, this is serious. When was the last time you had a proper sleep schedule?" YS folded his arms.

Oh. He really wasn't gonna get out of this one, huh? This wasn't just some silly one-and-done forget about it confrontation. This was an intervention. "I mean I might stay up late but I get 7 hours at least on most days." He figured it wasn't that bad if he's getting the right chunk of sleep. Might not be at a good hour but it felt like a reasonable compromise to him.

"I know you wake up earlier than your alarm unless you're sleep deprived. Your group chat messages for the past week. They show you're only offline for 4-5 hours every night." YS said firmly.

Bash's smile faltered a little. He knew he wasn't the most responsible adult but this just felt a little…

"Disappointed in yourself?" He cut Bash's thoughts off with a dagger. Ouch. YS must've realized because his expression furrowed a little differently. Less of disappointment and more of worry. "Shit- sorry."

"No. You're right." Bash sighed, dropping the jokester act. He didn't feel like keeping it up if the facade was already seen through. Couldn't hide anything from this guy. "I should act like the adult that I am."

Something about saying that outloud felt a lot worse.

"Fuck, dude-" YS winced a little. Regret immediately washed over Bash. God, it was hard to hide things here.

"Sorry, I-" Bash knew YS meant well, but goddamnit if he could silence the hurt so YS didn't feel it, he would.

"No, no. Forget I said anything." YS said, turning away.

"Wait-!"

Bash was met with his regular reflection.

He sighed and rubbed his face. Yes, he felt tired. Yeah, a little bit physically, but having your emotions read like it was a big old stoplight on his head felt exhausting after being so used to just hiding it. Being overly emotional never helped anyone. Not in Bash's experience.

Back when he and Pico first started dating, he'd do the same thing. Stay up way too late texting with him. It was fun, and he'd pass out with the last thing on his mind being the time they shared. After a long day of boring classes he didn't care about and doing chores around the house, it was his way of winding down.

It wasn't like he didn't see the downsides of it. He was just willing to make the sacrifice. He could sleep during class and take naps after doing his chores while Pico's still studying. Bash didn't particularly care about his homework and he'd do it during lunch anyway since Pico helped him. It was his own system and he thought it worked great.

But now that he was an adult, it felt more like an addictive cycle. His coworkers could tell when Bash has another late night. They'd bring it up. He'd have a cup of coffee and end up too caffeinated to sleep later. He stays up, has fun, and tries to stay up even longer till he's too tired to speak or type coherently. He'd wake up tired. People notice. Repeat.

He knew it wasn't healthy and he needed to break out of it hard and fast.

But it's always the first step that's the hardest, isn't it? Committing to it.

Bash washed his face. He felt a bit better, but not by much. His heart still weighed heavy, and he wanted to apologize to YS. Tell him the truth. Right now he knew YS was overthinking things. Maybe that he overstepped or caused Bash to feel hurt when it's not true at all.

YS was right when he brought up Bash was disappointed in himself. When your bad habits are laid out, anyone would feel guilty of it. Bash caused his own hurt by making bad choices. He needed that intervention or he wouldn't stop. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't the first time either. YS tried before and he didn't listen.

Bash tried to suppress the guilt that twisted in him, but he was terrible at it. Yes, this was the push he needed. Not all change was comfortable, and he knew that all too well. Didn't make it easy, but he'd live.

It wasn't much, but he set a few alarms for later tonight. Added an extra hour to his estimated sleep time to see if that does anything different, though a part of him believed it wouldn't change much.

He smiled a little to himself. He probably never would've taken the first step if it wasn't for his other self stepping in.

He hoped YS wasn't beating himself up about it. That was the last thing he wanted. Humans were complicated, and just detecting emotions didn't make YS a mind reader. Bash needed to explain himself and talk it out.

He sent YS a text.

(Hey, are you ok?}

----------

Not really used to writing other people's characters. Gave it a shot here, but I don't think it came out right. Wrote this all out and I'm not gonna re-read just cuz I'm gonna get embarrassed and chicken out of posting it.

Gonna be gone for a little bit so if I don't respond to comments right away just know I'm out doing errands lol

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

The Pocky Game After Word.

//Warning: NSFW implications (like, seriously, this is probably the filthiest my blog has been of my OWN accord.//

Hm...Alright...

Yes...I think that was the last one.

So it's finally over?

It would appear so.

*Literally everybody around the circle lets out a collective sigh of relief. The entire group finds themselves winding down from the chaos, laughs, and unexpected moments that ensued during the game. Everyone is a bit worn out, but there’s a sense of camaraderie that wasn’t quite there before...something that came from sharing such a strange and wild experience together.

Well, that was…eventful, to say the least. I think we all learned a lot about each other, huh?

Y-Yeah...Definitely...

I’d say we could use a break from any more games like that for a while. But…it was nice to see everyone let loose...Even if it means I'm going to have muscle pain all day tomorrow...

Well, I mean, not to be that gal, but I'M pretty satisfied.

You got to have sex, of course you're satisfied.

Yeah, but that was also coupled with having to do a bunch of embarrassing stuff!

I think we all did well today. Perhaps next time, we’ll try something that’s a bit more…wholesome.

No kidding, hahaha.

I’m not sure why I indulged in such frivolity, but I suppose even I can appreciate a brief lapse in tedium…once in a while.

I mean, I definitely had fun besides the creepy worm vision I got.

Getting to play video games was fun...Saying a whole bunch of inappropriate words wasn't...

I’m…not sure how I feel about some of those challenges, but I’m glad I could participate in my own way!

Oh, yeah, by the way Taka, you can put your clothes back on. I know this was all kinds of weird, but it was cool to see you let loose for once.

Ah, yes, I think I'll do that. And despite the unconventional nature of the game, I think it brought us all a little closer. Unity, even in unusual circumstances, is something to be valued.

I hope I didn’t get too carried away, everyone… but I guess it’s nice to know that we can all laugh about it together.

*With the chaos winding down, the group collectively decides to clean up the mess left behind; things like crumpled Pocky wrappers, discarded props, and plenty of leftover snacks. As they start to head back to their rooms, there are plenty of lingering smiles, playful jabs, and even a few heartfelt words exchanged.

——————————————————————

Are you sure about this?

I'm sure...Thank you so much for the offer but...I'm not ready for this yet.

You know that's not true. You've been ready for this for so long now.

To make the commitment? Yes? To do...this...no...especially not with more than one person...I have no experience to speak of.

Sayaka, really, I'm grateful that you want to include me, but I'm fine, I promise.

...Alright...but next time for sure.

Are you girls okay?

Yeah, we're fine. I think I'm gonna go retire to bed for the evening. I feel really sick after everything that just happened...

Yeah, you almost threw up like, three times. Well, have a nice rest, Mukuro.

Thank you for your sweet words, Mukuro. It…meant more than you think.

...You're welcome Kyoko...and...I meant it too.

*Mukuro pauses for a moment, giving Kyoko a small, genuine smile before turning and heading out of the room. When she leaves, Sayaka turns to them with a hint of urgency in her eyes. She makes sure no one else is around before leaning in towards Makoto and Kyoko.

[2-guns-b1tch]

Talk To Me

Arkham! Riddler x FemaleReader

+18 Minors DNI!!!!

After 10 months I'm finally done with this chapter ! Sorry to leave everybody waiting, but I was having trouble writing this chapter, but it's finally here. Hope you guys enjoy it!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 4 / AO3

"What about this one?" Harley asks, taking the book off the shelf and showing it to you.

"I've read that one, but I didn't like it that much. Too many of sex scenes."

Harley rolls her eyes, huffing a laugh. "What did you expect? It's a Smut book!"

You shrug as you continue to scan over the books in the romance section. "I know, but there was no character development. And I was getting tired of reading about how the main guy had a huge cock and how wet the romantic interest was all the time.”

Harley returns the book back the shelf, shaking her head at you. "You're the only person I know who reads an erotic book waiting for plot."

Since it was your day off, you had decided to run some errands and, luckily, Harley had agreed to come with you. Going through your to do list could be boring sometimes, but Harley always managed to make things more fun. Plus, a little help never hurt anyone.

It was a particularly cold day in Gotham. Although it had rained earlier, the clouds were still dark and heavy with water, the wind howling through the busy streets. At least the bookstore you and Harley were in was warm. The smell of new books accompanied by the scent of freshly made coffe from the café on the back created a cozy atmosphere that made you want to stay a little bit more.

"Still on the topic of erotica,” She raises her eyebrows in a sugestive way. “How’s your romantic life going? Any lucky guys caught your eye?" Harley says while looking at the cover of a book with a shirtless muscular man holding a woman in his arms.

"I've been so busy with everything lately. I hardly have time for myself, let alone a relationship. But what about you? Are you seeing someone?"

"Well..." Harley bites her lower lip as she wraps a lock hair around her finger. "There's this guy I met."

You turn your full attention to her, smiling excitedly. "Tell me everything! How long have you been talking? Does he work at Arkham too? Do I know him?"

"Okay, calm down!" she giggles, looking around as a light blush covers her cheeks. "I met him at Arkham and we've been talking for the last few months. He's pretty funny."

"And what's his name?"

"His name is... Jack. You don't know him." She quickly turns back to a pile of books."What are we looking for again?"

"Edward finished the puzzle book I gave him, so he asked me to bring Frankenstein this time."

Harley laughs. "Okay, we're definitely not going to find that here. Let's look in the Horror section."

The two of you head deeper into the bookstore, the old wooden floor creaking beneath your feet. You loved being surrounded by books, so many amazing stories just waiting to be discovered. You remembered your childhood, how easy it was to get lost in words, every turn of page made the world a less scary place, your problems fading for just a few moments. You used to imagine yourself as one of Peter Pan's lost boys, or Alice falling down the rabbit hole to her Wonderland. Anything that distanced you from your own troubled reality.

You find the Horror section and you start browsing over the columns of the books in search of Frankenstein while Harley walked aimlessly between the shelves, looking for nothing in particular.

"Has the Joker ever asked you to bring him something?" The words left your mouth before you realise. You didn’t want to ruin the mood talking about work, and besides, Joker was Harley’s patient, not yours.

"Not really. He knows I'm not allowed to take anything into the maximum security ward."

It made sense. As much as Edward didn't have a clean record, he definitely wasn't as unhinged as the Joker. So he was allowed to interact with other patients and his cell wasn't as protected. Just the thought of being in the presence of the Joker makes you feel a shiver run down your spine.

Dracula. Carmilla. Dr. Jekyll and Mr.Hyde. You skim over the titles in the row of books arranged side by side. You've never been much of a fan of the horror genre. Gotham was dangerous enough and you didn't need any more paranoia in the middle of the night. Was that why Edward wanted a book like that? To some people he was like one of the monsters in those stories. Maybe he just wanted to see himself in a story where one of the characters wasn't so different from him, even if they were the villain.

You finally find what you were looking for. You pull the book, running your fingers over the dark green velvet cover. This edition looked older, having only the title and the author's name written in gold letters on the front. Edward would definitely like this one.

"You won't believe what I found." Harley's voice comes from behind you, pulling you from your thoughts. She’s holding a small book, a smile stretching her lips. "It's a joke book!"

Harley flips through the pages until she stops at something she likes. "A book just fell on my head... I only have my shelf to blame." She reads aloud.

"Oh, my God. That was horrible!" You cover your mouth, but it's impossible to hide the laughter that escapes you.

“That’s a good one. I used to be addicted to soap, but I’m clean now.”

"We're not going buy this one." You say, heading towards the cashier.

"Oh, we totally will." Harley speaks, following you.

You and Harley finish buying the books, and when you open the door to leave the bookstore, a gust of wind hits you. The clouds that were silent just a few minutes ago are now alive. A loud thunder crashing over the city noise.

You hesitate at the door, unsure whether you should risk venturing into this weather or wait for the threat of rain to pass. Before you can say anything, Harley pulls you by the hand, guiding you down the street. Halfway through, drops of water begin to fall from the sky. At first it's just a thin drizzle, but little by little the rain starts turning thick.

But you can't even get mad at Harley. While other people are trying to protect themselves from the rain, Harley jumps into the puddles of water in an almost childish way, not seeming to care that the two of you were soaking wet. She throws her head back in an laugh and you can't suppress the smile that forms on your lips.

At that point you decide not to worry about getting a cold or how your clothes would take hours to dry. Instead, you allow Harley's warm to pass through you. You just keep the book under your coat so you don't get it wet and let Harley guide you.

------

When you finally arrive in the therapy room, Edward is already there. You catch him hunched over the table with tensed shoulders for just a second before he snaps his head towards you and fix his posture.

"Good morning, Edward." You say as you walk around the table, sitting in your usual spot opposite him.

Edward watches you in silence as you grab your purse and take out your things to start the session.

"You're late." He notices, his voice quiet.

You check the clock on the wall. "For only 5 minutes."

"It still means you're late."

It’s not unusual for patients to be attached to a specific routine. This brings stability and security to them, so making even the smallest change in the pattern can easily bother them. But you expected a tic related to time would be Tetch’s thing, not Edward’s.

You smile apologetically. "The asylum is big and it takes me a while to walk here. But you're right, I'm late. I'm sorry."

You wait patiently for Edward to say something sarcastic or some comment about how important and smart he is to wait for people like you. But he just nods weakly, keeping his eyes on his lap.

You tap your pen a few times against your clipboard, trying to break the foreign silence that filled the room.

"Is everything okay? You're strangely quiet today."

Edward scoffs a laugh. "At least you're smart enough to appreciate what I have to say. Most people would rather I shut up."

"I always want to hear what you have to say. That's why I'm here."

Edward squeezes his lips into a thin line, looking disturbed by something. His eyes travel across the room for a moment before landing on you again. He swallows hard a few times, a light sheen of sweat forming on his forehead.

"I... I've got something for you." He babbles, the words coming out choked. "It's a... well, I- Oh dammit."

He lets out a frustrated sigh before putting something down on the table and retreating back to his chair.

The object Edward left on the metal surface of the table wasn’t some kind of riddle or puzzle. It was actually a small sculpture of a cat in a sitting pose that fitted in the palm of your hand. You pick it up, realizing that Edward must have made it from a bar of soap. Your fingers caress the delicate details, the small nose, it’s pointed ears, the tail that wrapped around it’s body.

"The details may not be entirely accurate, since I don’t know the exactly appearance of your cat and I didn't have the necessary materials and-" Edward starts chattering but you interrupt him.

"Is this Meg? I loved it!" You hold the sculpture firmly between your fingers, placing it against your chest. "It's perfect."

"You... Loved it?" Edward clears his throat, adjusting his posture. "Well, of course you did. I couldn't have expected any other reaction. I did an excellent job, even with the inadequate materials." A pink flush appears on his cheeks, spreading across his face and up his ears.

"Is this some kind of apology because of our last session?"

Edward adjusts his glasses over his nose. "You could say that my behavior was not entirely appropriate. I may have been a little rude. But don’t think this is an apology, I’m not nice."

"But where did you find the tools to do something like this? You're not allowed to be near sharp objects." You remember him.

"My abilities know no bounds, Doctor. Nothing can stop a brilliant mind like mine," after a second he adds. "I used a spoon."

A smile spreads across your face as you imagine Edward with his tongue tucked in between his lips, his brow furrowed in concentration as he methodically carved out the details in a piece of soap.

"Since we're exchanging gifts, I have something for you, too." You pull Frankstein's copy out of your bag, pushing it towards Edward.

"You remembered..." He comments as he strokes the velvety cover of the book, looking surprised.

"Of course I did. Did you think I would forget?"

"It’s not that. I just thought that because of the last session you might be... upset." Edward looks almost embarrassed, but it's still too early to know for sure if he actually feels any kind of remorse. One step at a time.

"I forgive you, Edward. Even if this is not an apology. I may have been a little harsh too, but now we're even."

You smile at Edward and for a second he surprises you with a soft smile of his own. It's not like the smirk he usually has on his face or the kind he reserves for his cruel comments. This time it's sincere. You think it suits him.

"Very well," you continue, checking your notes quickly. "Today I would like to talk about-"

This time, it's Edward who cuts you off with a groan. It looks like things are back to normal.

"This is so boring, can we talk about something else? I feel like my neurons are dying every day I spend in here." Edward complains, resting his chin on his cuffed hands. "Anything would be a more interesting mental stimulation."

"Do you think I'm going to change the session just because you gave me a gift?"

"Maybe?" He grins, his lips stretching like the Cheshire Cat.

You decide to give in this time, since Edward was in such a good mood. You place your notes on the table and lean against the chair.

"Well, what do you want to talk about?" You ask, placing your hands on your lap.

"Let me see..." Edward taps his chin a couple of times before speaking again "How's the weather?"

You huff a laugh. "Weather, really? Do you find this a more interesting mental stimulation?"

"You can see how desperate I am, can't you?" his foot nugdes yours under the table and you jump lightly, surprised by the unexpected contact. "Come on, tell me. I stay all day inside this building, I hardly see the sky."

"Well, it's been raining a lot these last few weeks. You know, the sewer system doesn't work so the streets are all flooded."

He sighs. "Gotham never changes. How about the renovation of Bleake Island's main avenue? Before I came here, they were still trying to finish it."

"Still going. Takes me even more time to get here because of it. They stopped because of a funding problem or something."

"At least I know that our dear mayor will never fail to let us down. And they still say I'm the villain." Edward gestures in an exaggerated manner, drawing a small chuckle from you.

"What do you miss most from outside?" That wasn't one of your prepared questions, but you've always wondered what it was like to be stuck in Arkham.

"I miss food. Real food. I've been dreaming of that Italian place on 19th Street." He leans back against his chair, an dreamy expression on his face. "And music, too. I'd kill for a radio in here."

In these last few weeks you had seen Edward bored, grumpy and even angry. But now he seemed relaxed, almost content to be talking to you. This sudden change in mood makes a strange feeling pass through you.

You clear your throat, straightening your back.

"What are you trying to do here, Edward?"

His smile dies a little and he tilts his head slightly. "What do you mean?"

“As far as I know, you hate our sessions and suddenly you just want to talk to me? What has changed?"

"Can’t we just have a good old-fashioned conversation? I'm known for my intelligence, but believe me when I say I can also be charming when I want to."

"I don't know if I buy it." You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

Edward clicks his tongue, rolling his eyes at you. "All right. It may come as a surprise, but in this building full of imbeciles and lunatics, you are one of the few people that I’m able to have a normal conversation with. You should be proud, Doctor. Not many have this honor."

The look of surprise on your face must be apparent, since Edward snorts a laught at you, shaking his head gently. Maybe it was too early to believe that Edward trusted you, but at least he seemed to be starting to warm up to you. And in your book that was considered a victory.

------

The door of your apartment closes behind you with a small click. You go through your usual routine, first locking all the locks on your door, then taking off your coat and finally greeting Meg with a pat behind her ears.

The answering machine warns you that you have seven new messages, but this time you decide to delete them without listening. You were in a good mood and didn't feel like having your day ruined again because of a wrong message. Whatever it was, it could wait.

Meg follows you on the way to your room and you need to be careful not to trip over her as she snuggle against your legs. A sigh leaves your lips when your sinks in your comfy matress, allowing the stresses of the day to leave your shoulders. You decide to make a new entry on your recorder, it's been a while since you've done that.

"Fourth session with patient Edward Nygma. Ed showed a great evolution today," you say as you rummage inside your bag. "He exhibited violent behavior on our last session, but Ed seemed to feel guilty as we talked about it. He was also willing to engage in a normal conversation with me and even seemed to be interested in what I had to say. Maybe this is a form of manipulation, but I like to believe Edward is improving in his treatment."

You take the little cat statue out of your purse, placing it on your bedside table. You pet it carefully, almost as if it was a real cat. When you started talking again, a smile came across your face.

"We exchanged gifts today. I brought the book he asked me and he made a cat sculpture inspired by Meg. It's lovely. I wonder what Edward could do if he had the right materials and tools. His manual skills are... fantastic."

You find yourself remembering how nervous Edward was earlier. The soft pink flush on his cheeks, going all the way up his ears. His gentle smile. Meg's meows knock you out of your thoughts and you realize you've been staring at the cat sculpture for too long. You decide to end the recording and getting up to prepare your and Meg's dinner.

[getinthefuckingcarkitten]

cw: references to/attempted noncon and avery being manhandled. continuation to the edenvery bodyguard au thing i did a long while ago cause i suddenly felt like it again

"Your friend is a little... Quiet, isn't she?" Asks perhaps the third person just this evening, making Avery clutch her glass just a little harder.

"Yes." Avery forces out a laughter that sounds annoyingly nasal, though she hopes not too fake. "She has never been the conversational type."

As soon as the girl talking to her turns her head, Avery shoots Eden a withering glare, but her bodyguard doesn't even seem to notice. She had been holding the same cup for what seemed like the last hour now, just swirling the alcohol around instead of drinking. Maybe, for all of her size, Eden was actually weak to alcohol.

"And how did you two meet, again?" Remy had a keen sense for appearing at the worst moment. Suddenly all attention was back on Avery. "She's an old friend of yours, right?"

"Oh, just... Back at college." Avery said the first thing that came to her head, stupidly, but as the party wore on she was getting worse at excuses, tired of explaining her enigmatic and irritatingly stoic plus one to the other guests. Eden's presence was as unwelcome here as anywhere else, but since last time, it was either taking her along or losing another fight at her own house for the right of enjoying her social life. So fucking humiliating.

"Oh, she went to our college? I don't know how i could have missed her. She has very... Distinctive looks." Remy tilted her head in what seemed like curiosity, but Avery could see right through her mockery. Everyone knew that Eden wouldn't belong there.

Eden seemed to react to this, at least, her rhythmic movements suddenly halting. Avery's blood went cold, the thought that she could simply spill the beans at any moment now crossing her mind, but Eden simply remained silent.

"Oh, i meant-" Thinking so fast that anyone who passed by could likely smell smoke coming out of her head, Avery came up with another lie. "Back when i went to get my things, um, she was there to help me, from the moving company..."

She placed her hand over Eden's shoulder in a friendly gesture, even if that made her hurl in her mouth a little bit. Eden remained quiet, though Avery could swear she heard a laugh so low and short that it could just be her brain playing tricks on her, ridiculing her over her sloppy lie.

"Oh." Remy's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Seems like a lovely friendship between you two, despite your... Differences. You're so outgoing, and she's..."

"I don't mind." Avery cut her off with an even faker smile. "I like that she lets me talk."

After that, the conversation drifted to other topics. Avery finally relaxed a bit, then, and decided to go out for a breath of fresh air, not before whispering to Eden to not say anything stupid. She doubted she would say anything at all, but still.

Outside, as she took a cigarette out of her handbag and went to light it, the flame flickered and shook a bit more violently than if it was just the wind. Her hands had been trembling a little, Avery realized, her nerves not yet soothed by the alcohol, which only made her focus harder on inhaling that first puff of nicotine. It made her brain a little sharper. There was no need to be scared.

Breathing in and out, Avery considered her decision to come to the party. She had been locked in her house for a while, handwaving it away as a persistent cold for the weeks she spent only going to work and back home immediately, avoiding Eden the best she could after their last confrontation. Avery realized very quickly that she wasn't winning that battle, choosing to lock her room twice over instead and let the bodyguard do as she pleased, though she felt like a prisoner. Leave to work, call from the landline there, call again when she was about to leave, and come straight home. What a life.

But then Remy's birthday rolled around, and she had to be there or else Remy would question too much and, knowing her, dig in too deep, and then Avery would end up being the laughingstock if the stalker fiasco and the fact that she was subsequently assigned a babysitter became known. No, risking that would be a little too much.

Eden wasn't letting her out of the house without some sort of menacing punishment awaiting if she even so much as thought about staying after work for drinks, and not eager to meet her fate, Avery had complied with her demands. However, she supposed Eden wouldn't be as opposed to letting her socialize if she got to come along.

She was wrong, of course. Eden was a magnificent box of surprises and the surprises were all bullshit on top of bullshit. Pressed against the wall of her kitchen, she had to promise to not get drunk and to not leave Eden's sight for more than 20 minutes, or else she'd be getting dragged out of the party by her collar.

To speak of which, her time out was almost up. On her freshly-lit fourth cigarette, Avery gave herself at least the dignity to finish it before trudging back inside the manor.

To her surprise, she couldn't find her tormentor anywhere. Walking around with a bit of a lost look, one of the girls that was around Remy earlier giggled at her, which made Avery instantly frown, already on edge. However, she spoke up not soon after.

"Looking for your friend? I think she had a bit much to drink. She's in the room to the left." The girl said, then winked. "Don't worry, we didn't make fun of her or anything. We're not monsters."

"Right..." Avery struggled to relax the muscles of her face, sighing deeply. "Thanks."

The girl didn't seem bothered by her curt answer, but Avery knew she was losing it. She could feel sanity slipping inbetween her fingers, her stomach churning a bit at the thought that Eden was waiting for her in the shadows.

But as she barged into the room, there she was, in all her hulking glory, slumped over the arm of a couch. The room itself was dark. It seemed more like an office than a bedroom, and it was just like Remy to not let someone too... Low-caste, for the lack of better wording, use her bedrooms willy-nilly, even if there were a lot of them in that house. Well, Avery didn't entirely blame her. Eden surely didn't deserve it, for example.

Still, she looked perfectly comfortable in the couch, even if her half-sitting position was a bit funny. Was she snoring? Avery approached her, curious, as careful as she could be. She had never seen Eden sleep, despite living in the same house. She always seemed to wake up earlier and go to sleep later, somehow. Most of the time, the broom closet that Avery had designated as Eden's room, decorated with only a creaky bed and an old wardrobe, went unused.

Her house and car keys, put on a lanyard than hung around Eden's neck beneath her shirt didn't even make a sound as her toned chest rose and fell. It was almost funny if it wasn't the bane of Avery's existence, how quiet Eden managed to be despite her size. She was all muscles, after all. Avery would like to think that the rigorous routine she maintained thanks to the gym in her building wouldn't put her that far behind, yet time and again she was proven wrong.

But right now Eden was sleeping. Alcohol-induced sleep that was hard to rouse from, Avery realized, reminded of her reluctance to finish a single cup earlier. Avery wasn't sure what made her reach out for her keys, but she pulled them from under Eden's shirt without so much as a twitch from the sleeping beast. There was the faint idea, surely because of the madness that she was being driven to in the last few months, as the keys weighted in her hand, of twisting and twisting the lanyard and only stopping once it either snapped or she put Eden in a much deeper sleep, whichever came first.

As her hand tightened around her keys, a hand closed around her wrist in a vice-like grip. Quicker than she could react, Avery was pulled into the couch as Eden came up on top of her, pining both of her hands above her head. She was too stunned to speak, and then she heard Eden laugh again. The low, rumbling noise of her laughter never meant anything good for Avery. The grip on her wrists tightened considerably. No way she fell for the same trap twice.

"You weren't leaving without me, right?" Eden asked, a bit too smug, before lowering her face closer to Avery's, who instictively turned her head away in almost abject horror. But Eden just whispered to her. "You broke the agreement."

"It was just some four minutes. Five, at best." Avery hissed, trying to be as quiet as she could though her heartbeat pumped in her hears so very loud.

"Ten." Eden's grip tightened even more, and for a hot minute Avery thought she was trying to snap her wrists. It wouldn't be so easy, but it hurt nonetheless.

Only when she let out a low whine of pain, like a pathetic little dog, Eden finally let go a little bit. Right, her job was to prevent physical harm, not cause it, though Avery was sure that would leave marks.

"I was just smoking outside, you could have followed." Emboldened by realizing that Eden couldn't hurt her too badly, Avery snapped. "But you'd rather... Hide away like a scared animal."

"Your friends are annoying." Eden growled.

"You were intimidated." Avery insisted, but before Eden got angrier at her, she decided to play another card. "Look, we can leave now if you want. I'll say you weren't feeling so good, and then we'll go home, and then we'll settle this."

Eden actually seemed to consider it, amd Avery beamed inside. On the way home, she'd figure out how to sprint to her bedroom. Maybe leave her shoes in the car, or...

The door to the room creaked open, and Avery went pale as she saw Remy standing there. No, she was actually feeling sick now. In a desperate impulse, she tried wrangling herself free from Eden, who instinctively reacted by slamming her down on the couch harder. Avery felt her head spin.

Then, Remy closed the door. Approached them, so slowly. Avery could only tell by the sound of her heeled boots clacking on the floor, as her eyes were wide and locked on Eden's face, panic written all over her face. No matter if she pretended it was all consensual or if Remy pulled Eden off her, it'd be over. She'd get laughed out of the party full of the richest people in town.

"Poor Avery." Remy's voice had something off about it, but it was hard to immediately tell what.

Avery managed to pry her eyes away from Eden to look at Remy. Was she smiling? What a bitch. Not that she expected anything better. So she was gonna make fun of her before anything else. Classic Remy.

Eden also seemed to be looking at Remy, a bit more attentively. Through her hands around her wrists, Avery could feel her muscles tensing. God, Remy wasn't winning that one, no matter how much she liked to play cowboy on her inherited farm.

"What a pity. Had too much to drink, haven't you?" Remy ignored Eden completely, her hand coming to rest on Avery's forehead. What the hell was she going on about now?

Remy lowered her face closer, pushing Avery's hair out of the way.

"So careless." Remy tutted, before turning to Eden. "You've kept to yourself all night, haven't you? Should i trust you'll be able to keep it at that?"

Avery felt something heavy drop on her stomach.

"I won't keep you out of it, of course. Finders keepers, after all." Remy continued, speaking to Eden, not Avery. "So?"

If Avery felt sick before, she was about to vomit now. Eden alone was bad enough, but if Remy was willing to cover up for her, no, not cover up. It was a bit more sinister than just that.

Then, she was hoisted up suddenly, almost hitting her head on Remy's had she not stood up quickly enough.

"We're going home." Eden spoke to Remy for maybe the first time in the night besides the initial curt greeting. "She's not feeling well."

Then, Avery was being pulled to her feet, though her body felt way too heavy to move. It didn't matter to Eden, who held her upright against herself.

Remy went quiet. There was something on her face that was a bit like displeasure, but Avery's vision unfocused as if she was on the verge of passing out, though she didn't. She turned her face away from Remy and walked alongside Eden. They didn't say many goodbyes as they left the house.

Avery was put on the passenger seat of her car, and she had no strength to complain.

"You have some strange friends." Eden said, and Avery could swear she sounded a bit more bitter than her usual deadpan tone, but maybe she just wanted to see some sympathy where there was none.

"Yeah." Avery looked at her own hands. She'd like to think that she was drunk and hallucinating on top of that, but unfortunately she was too sober for this. "Stranger than i thought."

Eden nodded, to what, Avery didn't really know.

"Suppose you'd fit in." Eden whistled, making Avery snap her head at her at once. If looks could kill, Ede would have dropped dead, but then Avery wouldn't have anyone to drive her numb body home.

"Shut the fuck up." She growled, low, her voice a bit more unsteady than what she'd like to sound like right now. "It was nothing like that. It was a mistake, i wouldn't have-"

"Save your breath. I don't care." Eden cut her off mid-rant, her tone back to deadpan as she turned the keys into the engine and the motor rumbled to life. "I don't care why you did it. Your parents just thought i should know to not get drunk around you. Just in case."

How funnily ironic, then.

"It was a mistake." Avery stubbornly replied. "And it's been years, anyway."

She didn't know why she was still trying to justify herself to Eden, of all people. Right now, not even Remy came close to her when it came to violating Avery's autonomy.

"Don't pout." Eden said as she drove away. It sounded strange. Like she was trying to be playful, but it came out like an order. "I like them rowdy, anyway."

Avery gagged.

"Not a chance." She hissed, leaning against the car door. Another one of these and she'd start to consider jumping.

But Eden just cracked a creepy little smile at her, which was just a little less disgusting than hitting on her.

"I'm not the type to break contracts." Eden continued. "Unlike you", Avery could almost hear it, but Eden didn't dare go this way. It'd just start a fight, anyway.

"Is that supposed to comfort me?" Avery asked, clearly not amused.

"No. It's supposed to remind you." Eden sighed. "I have a job to keep you safe. Help me by staying out of trouble."

"This party wasn't supposed to be trouble." Avery retorted. "My parents have known Remy's parents for years before we were even born. They had business together, but i wouldn't suppose you'd know-"

"And yet." Eden's response was short and effective, and Avery went quiet.

As Eden parked, a bit too clumsily for Avery's tastes, she led them up to Avery's apartment. It was a quiet walk up to the elevator and then to the front door.

"Is your job why you didn't accept Remy's offer?" Maybe Avery only had the courage to ask after she stepped out of her shoes and her bedroom door was within sight. To be honest, she was already powerwalking towards it before Eden even replied. Safer that way.

"No." Eden replied, making her steps halt. But as she turned, Eden was already walking back inside her broom closet, seemingly not willing to chit-chat any longer.

Just as well. That answer didn't shake Avery at all. Locking her door twice over before taking a flask out of one of her spare purses, Avery sat on her bed, suddenly too soft and threatening to make her lose her balance like it never had before, and took a big swig of pure vodka. It was the only proper conclusion to the night, and she just hoped to manage to not think about it in the nearby future.

[randomwriteronline]

"I trust I have chosen you well."

The structure was sprawling. On one hand, it had to be expected - the Makuta assigned to Metru Nui would not have resisted a dose of fanfare to their abode, settled as it was in the second most important location of the universe; on the other, it felt a bit surprising, because rather frankly the city had not appeared to have the necessary space for such a thing with how densely packed it was. Then again, the lair tended to develop vertically and was situated in Po-Metru, easily the most desolated district.

They had tried to commit its plant to memory as the tour went on, but with little success. They would have to acclimate to the winding nature of its shape and the position of the rooms in time.

Norik bowed his head briefly in a sort of long nod, knowing these things were heard even when unseen: "We will prove as much, Makuta."

"I do not doubt it," Teridax replied with the low hissing voice of his kind.

His feet were heavy on the floor, causing a very strange and distinctive sound that echoed between the walls and had so far determined the rhythm of their "relaxed march", if one had to describe the pace at which their group had moved through the structure.

It was as such a little bit jarring when they produced a curious muffled shuffle as he stopped, a little ways from a door leading to a staircase.

"I would request another duty for you to take on, as well," he explained. His hand gave a little flourish, akin to a (somewhat flustered) wave. "It is a lesser one, in a sense - it shouldn't be too hard for you."

"Certainly, Makuta," Norik replied. His siblings nodded with him, truthfully a little curious.

"I would like you to look after my..." the hulking being blanked for a moment, voice cutting off and glowing eyes staring into the void. His long fingers clenched into a half-hearted fist as he seemed to think as furiously fast as he could, settling on a word that he still didn't seem too sure was correct: "Apprentice. As well."

That was a surprise - information on the inner workings of the Brotherhood wasn't exactly abundant, but nobody had ever heard of them taking apprentices before. A recent member of the Makuta species, perhaps? But Teridax would have likely called them "sibling" instead, if that were the case. The being had to be something else... Skakdi weren't quite that bright, but maybe a Vortixx? A Steltian? A Matoran or Toa, even?

Teridax continued, regaining composure with a wave of his claws: "Though he is far from newly made, his experience of the universe outside of the Brotherhood is very limited, if not skewed in certain places. I hope a team of Toa such as yourselves would be a good influence on him."

They weren't sure if that was a compliment or not.

It probably was, by all means, and they were in no position to complain either way.

It was just that this whole deal sort of sounded like they were being treated as a pack of Hapaka hounds put to the ferocious protection of one singular Mukau.

Still, because they had been chosen by Teridax himself and to plainly tell him they didn't think that was a task befitting them would have been incredibly rude to say the least, Norik again voiced his siblings' carefully worded thoughts as they all bowed their heads: "We're flattered, Makuta, and we will do our best. Is your apprentice busy at the moment, or would it be fine for us to meet him?"

"I fear that will have to wait. I have sent him to one of my brothers," Teridax replied. "Guests tend to make Pohatu rather... Excitable."

Pouks made a strange face.

He regretted it when the Kraahkan turned to him.

"What is it?" the Makuta demanded.

"Ah - nothing," he tried to lie, opting then to diminish the truth: "I remembered something, but it's nothing important."

"Do share." the other insisted. "I am curious."

Oh, this was the worst. Pouks did his best not to sink into his shoulders and through the floor as he embarrassedly explained: "It's just an old legend... According to some, the Toa Mata of Stone is also called Pohatu. I was only surprised by the coincidence."

Teridax did not respond to that for a moment, completely frozen.

At last, his voice emerged from the depths of his gargantuan being in a somewhat strangled tone: "Indeed."

Perhaps he was planning to clear his throat with a half-hearted cough afterwards, and return to the topic of orientation, leading his newly appointed Hagah up to the rest of the lair.

He did not manage to do any of that as a atrong wind suddenly rushed right behind him and straight into the staircase, following its spiral design until it hit what was presumably a very far away wall with a loud 'thunk' - a sound which winds have a tendency not to make when coming in contact with walls, as they are composed of an element that under no circumstances goes 'thunk' upon impact.

Thoroughly spooked, the Toa jolted and held their tools a little tighter.

The Makuta, for his part, widened his eyes and gazed into nothingness for a second or so in horrible, horrible realization.

"Excuse me," he mumbled at the six before making his way to the entrance of the stairwell in what he certainly hoped would be a sufficiently dignified manner of leaving the scene.

He got past the doorway, though not by much; then, whatever had rushed up the steps came back down like a small slavine, and the massive being had to abruptly cut his height in half with a hissed grunt as the noticeably shorter thing slammed itself in his abdomen at the speed of a magnum bullet.

The Toa were about to intervene as they noticed his arms shoot forward to contain the menace, but instead held themselves back in baffled silence when he patted its head.

"Are they here?" an excited voice asked.

"You should be with Krika," Teridax wheezed without answering.

"He said you were getting a Hagah team so I wriggled out of his lair and ran over as soon as I could!" the voice explained still bouncing with enthusiasm, like traveling the entire distance between Metru Nui and Zakaz, apparently by foot and possibly with the same velocity it had just displayed, was a normal thing to do.

Which, considering the Makuta's reaction to the information was only to ruefully pull his head back and heave a deep sigh of disappointment (very likely regarding his more somber brother), it seemed to indeed be.

From behind the massive being the new guest finally caught a glimpse of the six warriors standing still as statues just a couple bio away: overwhelmed by excitement, it pressed harder against Teridax as if to slither through the gaps in his armor, managing to get most of its body across before the Makuta finally caught it by the legs and was this able to hold its noticeably Artakhan build in place, while its orange eyes smiled brilliantly through the elongated sockets of its brown Kakama.

"HI!!" the Toa Mata of Stone yelled at them as he waved his hand at terrifying speeds: "DO YOU WANT TO SEE MY HORNED RAHI?"

The six Toa felt the ability to speak leave them.

Before their wide eyes, the figure of legend was at last scooped up in Teridax's palms, sitting between the mighty claws as snug as a kraata despite being roughly ten times the size of one, dangling his legs like a Matoran on a ledge and still beaming at them with a wide excited grin behind his mask.

The Makuta made a small sound, like a wheezed whine. He seemed a little embarrassed.

"I was hoping to stage a more elegant introduction," he half lamented - rather melodramatically, which made the being in his hold giggle. "But I suppose Destiny is at work against me."

-

"Do you need help, Gaki?" Pohatu asked, suddenly stomping to a stop.

Gaaki thanked the Great Spirit she hand a tendency to clench around herself when scared, otherwise the crate in her hand would have ruinously slammed on the floor and whatever it contained would have likely gone to pieces.

"No, thank you," she replied as gently as she could with a wobbly smile: "I've got it all handled here, you don't need to worry."

"Are you sure? I know these are pretty heavy, and the stairs are terrible - especially when you've got your hands full," the other Toa insisted gently. He faked a little gun show for her, lifting his short arms - it did make her chuckle, and he seemed to relish in that: "I can carry one or two so you don't have to take too many trips down!"

"I don't want to distract you from your duties..."

"Oh, I don't have anything to do right now. Or ever, really. I'd love to lend you a hand."

She fumbled with the crate again.

"Alright," she acquiesced, "If you want to, I won't disdain some help."

Pohatu beamed brilliantly.

He lifted the second crate with a short grunt, settling it to the top of his head for stability, and gladly hurried in front of her to lead the way. His armored feet were surprisingly light against the ground, quick and nimble in a way they certainly didn't look: Gaaki struggled to match his pace, though it thankfully became clear she didn't need to - as he stopped to wait for her at every corner, very aware of his speed.

She hadn't expected all this eager helpfulness from Teridax's protégé.

Or from a figure of myth, either.

She couldn't say she was complaining about it, though.

"It's Gaaki, by the way," she told him him just as he began too speed off again.

That made him stop in his tracks, precariously balancing his weight on one foot in a rather dangerous way: "What?" he hollered back as he managed to set himself back upright without breaking anything.

"My name is Gaaki," she repeated, "With a long A."

"Ga-ah-ki?"

"Exactly like that. You said Ga-ki earlier."

"Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get it wrong."

"Don't worry, it's a common mistake. You'll get the hang of it."

He looked to the floor sheepishly either way.

He fiddled with his crate, balancing it a little better to take his mind off his slip-up, and headed for the stairwell leading down into the laboratory's storage.

Gaaki found him a few steps down already, waiting for her expectantly with his back to one of the walls. Imagining he was used enough to this type of architecture to know the better way to traverse such a narrow space with one's hands incapacitated, she imitated him; and so they began sliding down.

"Where are you from?" Pohatu asked all of a sudden, seeming honestly curious.

"Hm? Uh, the lower archipelago," she replied while trying to focus on where to place her feet, "The right one."

"Oh, opposite of Artidax then!"

"Exactly. A little higher, actually, but - you understand."

"And were you made a Toa? Or were you a Matoran first?"

The strange question made her steal a quizzical glance at him: "I was a Matoran, of course."

Before she could ask him about the first part of his question, he was already moving onto a new one: "So you had a job?"

"Well, yes. I was tasked with supervising the liquid protodermis flow through the canals down to Ba-Koro. Changes in gravity have a tendency to make it act up in certain places, so it was my duty to make sure everything worked smoothly."

"And did you like it?"

She looked around (checking for her supervisor's surprise visits still, after all these decades) before leaning down closer to him so she could whisper in his audio receptor with a conspiratorial tone and eyes telling of an ancient frustrated desperation: "It was dreadfully boring! I've feared for my life before, but I'd rather get turned into a lizard-headed little freak than spend a single day obsessing over tubes and pressures again!"

Pohatu snickered a little despite himself. The mortification that gleamed in his eyes for a moment disappeared the moment Gaaki joined in with her own chortle.

"Was it that bad?" he asked.

"Ah - alright, I could have exaggerated it a bit... It wasn't really bad, just mind-numbing. Which might be worse, really, but it doesn't matter. It's all behind me now - and I could be remembering things worse from how they actually were. I've been a Toa for eleven thousand years, after all, my memory's bound to get spotty."

Pohatu almost tripped as he did a double-take: "Eleven thousand?"

"Yes?"

"And you were a Matoran before that?"

"Yes, for four thousand years."

The Toa Mata seemed bewildered: "You're brand new!" he cried out.

Gaaki blinked.

A strangled cackle of disbelief left her at last, rattling through her chest: "Thank you?"

Of all the things she'd been called in her long life, 'brand new' was exactly the sort that she never would have expected anybody to one day use to describe her.

The stable pavement caught them by surprise. The lab's storage was rather large, looking almost cavernous due to its emptiness: Pohatu made a beeline towards a corner, placing down his crate as gently as he could; the Toa of Water followed suit and left her own cargo nearby, muffled tinkling coming from within.

Just to make sure everything was alright, Gaaki lifted the covers slightly and peeked inside: the crystal vats stood straight and clean, none broken or toppled.

She gave a small sigh of relief.

"Do you say that to all the females you meet?" she dared to tease him now that her concerns had been quelled.

"Of course not, all the others I know are even older than me!" Pohatu replied earnestly with a booming laugh. "Compared to us relics, you just came out of the forge!"

She snorted a little: "Alright, fair enough - and how old are you?"

"Oof, hundred thousand, give or take."

A large number was to be expected (it's really the only fitting answer, for a figure of myth) but it still took her quite off-guard. The Toa before her had every bit the design of something primitively unusual, with a certain almost wild appearance that no other being could hope to match, but his energy and attitude made it frighteningly easy to forget how truly ancient he was.

Pohatu didn't let her dwell on that too much: without fanfare he wrapped his arms around her, hefted her up in the air, and before Gaaki knew it they were back upstairs.

He placed her back down with a careful, bouncy movement, like it had been nothing.

"How many more?" he asked eagerly.

She held onto his shoulders for a moment, trying to steady her head so that her thoughts could clamber out of the basement where the fulminous speed had abandoned them and back into her skull: "How many what?" she managed once her faculties had properly caught up with her.

"The crates," he reminded her.

Oh! Yes, right, the Makuta's supplies, of course...

She turned around, still a little dizzy: a singular large box met her gaze, sitting almost defiantly right where she'd left it minutes earlier as if challenging her.

"One," she replied at last.

Pohatu leaned down to grab it: "I can handle that-"

Before she could stop herself, her hand was already gently patting the top of the brown Kakama and her voice was growing kindly stern again as though she were talking to a rowdy but otherwise well-meaning Matoran: "I've got this. You've been of great help already, but I'll assume you have your own busywork to do, right?"

Mortification crawled over her like a pack of ravenous stone rats as she realized what she was doing.

Much to her relief Pohatu could not have minded her somewhat condescending behavior less, as he leaned into her palm with great enthusiasm, soaking in her thanks like a sponge, before trying to insist more gently: "I have my Rahi, but if you need a hand..."

"Don't worry, I'll be fine," she reassured him as she retreated her hand, still embarrassed by her lapsus: "You saved me plenty of time, and even without your speed a single crate will be a breeze to carry."

"But the stairs..."

"You've showed me how to handle those earlier. I'll be fine, I promise!"

"Do you... Do you want to see them, first?"

"See what?"

"My Rahi!" the Toa of Stone started rocking in place, seeming excited. "The Makuta gifted me a few over the centuries and I'm- I mean, if you'd like to - oh, oh, have you ever met a moose? Chirox made it a few decades ago, I have one, she's huge! But she's docile, don't worry. If, if you, want, to come see a moose."

Gaaki thought about it for a moment: "You know," she said at last, silently apologizing to her brother, "Pouks actually has a fascination with large creatures."

Orange eyes beamed: "He does?"

She nodded: "I'm certain he would quite like to see a moose."

The shorter Toa appeared to be vibrating.

He fidgeted with his hands, trying to ask her a question he couldn't quite find the words for, begging for a tacit permission with a sort of eager nervousness; she huffed a giggle and winked her approval, and after barely the time to beam her a smile he was already off, a short lived forceful breeze all that was left in his wake.

-

"Iruini."

The Toa of Air stiffened.

He sincerely wished, upon Wairuha, Akamai and the Great Spirit himself, that Teridax's ability to apparently materialize out of nowhere in complete silence would one day finally stop scaring the wits right out of him.

Nonetheless he did his best to steel himself and straighten his back as he turned around: "Yes, Makuta?" he inquired.

"Pohatu is not in his chambers," the towering being spoke somberly. A tinge of anxiety spread into his words like ink staining water. "Nor have I found him in the laboratory, or any other room. He is not aiding your leader, or sparring with your sister; your brothers of Stone and Ice are with his Rahi in his place."

Ah! So it was just this, thank goodness.

Iruini waved at the Makuta to follow him while he walked fast, headed for a nearby balcony opening onto a large barren plane: "Don't worry - last I checked, Bomonga was keeping him busy."

"And where is Bomonga, if you'd be so inclined to tell me?"

"Ah, but where's the fun in that?" the Le-Toa murmured as quiet as he could while peering beyond the railing.

Teridax's much larger form hunched above him, casting a long shadow over him as he squinted in an attempt to catch at least a glimpse of the black and golden armor his Hagah of Earth wore. There were no such colors upon the dusty barren ground; all that crossed their vision a sudden bolt of brown every now and then, rushing like a crazed Rama across the stone and stopping only for mere seconds at a time to look around with feverish purpose.

Then, the unthinkable: enormous metal pillars sprung from the ground around the maroon spot and snapped shut around it just as quick as an alligator's jaw. The little figure cried out a thunderous 'eep!' as it tried to escape, but it was far too late.

From up on the balcony Iruini smirked with a huffed giggle while the Toa failed to evade his brother's grasp for the fourteenth time, struggling and squirming in it like a kraata. Bomonga's head peered through the ground at last with his usual impassible expression tainted by a glint of amusement in his lime eyes that would have been much harder to notice if his Mask of Growth hadn't turned his features massive.

Pohatu certainly saw it, and replied by giving his gargantuan finger a fake kick in playful retaliation.

"Best of thirty!" he hollered at his captor.

The Onu-Toa found the challenge suitable for a being of his caliber. He placed the Mata of Stone down once more with all the care necessary, watched him zip away laughing for a few dozen bio, and disappeared back into the dirt, like a predator sinking once more into the bog to settle in wait.

Iruini dared turn his gaze away from their game.

Teridax had moved to stand by his side instead of behind him and continued to watch the scene with a relieved smile and half-lidden eyes, anxiety gone from his stance; his claws clacked gently against the railing with a slow, pleased cadence.

His Hagah of Air leaned towards him, prompting him to lower his head to hear his hushed words better: "Should I ask my brother to let him win at least one?"

A low chuckle rumbled through the Makuta: "Ah, but where's the fun in that?" he echoed, stealing an amused glance at the Toa biting his own tongue with a quiet regretful sound, like he'd just been kicked in the stomach.

Down below, Pohatu evaded an ambush with a triumphant cry.

Then he yelped as he fell into Bomonga's actual trap.

His frustrated groan tore a cackle out of Teridax.

"Do remind him to warn me next time he indulges my apprentice, if you would," he concluded while turning away from their game, walking back into the tower with slow steps. "I'd rather not have to fear about his safety again."

"Of course, Makuta."

The faint golden glow of the Kualsi gleamed in the corner of his eye: then the Toa disappeared.

Iruini blinked into the room where Teridax was busy archiving failed experiments in small stasis jars much later. He noticed his arrival only thanks to the curious sound which followed the teleportation - a sort of faint aspirated clunk clicking into place to force an empty space open around a specific shape.

"How is the score looking?" the larger being asked casually.

"They've moved on to best of sixty," the Toa answered without missing a beat.

Teridax bellowed a single laugh. If he could personally meet whoever decided all Le-Toa should have some amount of good comedic sense, he would probably give their hand a good shake.

"What brings you to me?" he drawled, gently shaking the small inert beast in its vat and watching it sway in its dreamless sleep. "I do not think you came to simply rely Pohatu's newest fruitless endeavors against your brother of Earth."

"I had a question about him, actually. Not Bomonga - your apprentice."

The quiet cautious tone was not lost on him, nor the strange feeling behind the last word: "Continue."

"Kualus recently shared with the rest of us an... Interesting conversation the two of them had, in-between their enthusiastic talks of how a horned flying Rahi would feasibly function and fly and sustain itself and so on and so forth."

"I can imagine the topic."

A beat of silence passed. Teridax set two more jars in place, careful to make the least sound possible in case his Toa Hagah had suddenly decided he preferred murmuring over speaking.

The other being did neither.

"Am I wrong, Iruini?"

"You haven't said anything I could refute."

"And yet you do not admit I am right."

"... He spoke of his siblings."

The Makuta's hand stalled for a moment before returning to his work in silence.

"Not much," the Toa added with a certain haste, his usual bite softened into an almost demure tone. "Only in passing."

No answer came.

The pause invited him to continue like a claw poking his spine.

He shifted on his feet. These sorts of dialogues of one rested on his nerves as comfortably as a spiny stone ape perched on one of the astrologers' crystal chairs.

"He didn't have much information on them, anyways," he spoke: "Their current whereabouts are unknown as far as anybody knows."

"They are," Teridax murmured.

Iruini eyed the hulking back as though kraata could have suddenly oozed out of it: "He isn't too heartbroken about that. At least - that was Kualus's impression."

"He isn't."

"Nor does he seem to hold them in high regard," the Le-Toa whispered, "Since he wishes them to be dead."

The vat hit the table with a small firm sound.

A long sigh hissed out of the Makuta; his shoulders lowered slowly, his claws raking across the flat surface without leaving marks, only producing a low grumbling growl.

The Toa withheld as much air in his lungs as he could, finding it very wise to keep quiet.

Not for a lack of questions: he had plenty of those. What the Brotherhood thought of the matter, for example. Or what Teridax thought of it, more specifically. If "apprentice" meant something other than "beloved ward" - if it was a claim of sorts on a being, if it included a certain kind of education they were not privy to, overseen by the Makuta when his Hagah were not around. Had it ever been disclosed how Pohatu had come into their midst? No, it had not. And the idea of the Toa Mata leaving one of their own behind sounded too farfetched to be true. Like a false memory planted by gentle voices, to confuse shackles for silk ribbons.

Silence hung over them like a coat of armor.

He almost jumped when the gigantic form spoke again, thundering voice hushed into the rustling of leaves: "I have told you," the Makuta echoed, "His experience of our universe is limited at best, and skewed at worst."

"And did you work to better it?" Iruini insinuated before he could catch his silver tongue between his teeth.

"We have tried," Teridax replied without any theatrics. "We have taught him what we could, what we knew, what we heard... But we are not Toa. We have our limits. And he is stubborn."

"But to wish for them to-"

"Our sister Tasaphore found him in a tunnel outside Karda Nui, alone, barely able to move through his guilt," the other cut him off. He did not snap, he did not growl; he spoke softly still, not turning around. The tone of his reminiscence colored itself with a faint distant pain. "He has told us little of his time before we welcomed him in our Brotherhood. He prefers not to dwell on those days. All he has remained firm on is that his siblings abandoned him."

"But that is - it can't - their duty-"

"He knows his duty. What do you believe? That he holds the safety of Mata Nui in no regard?"

"And what's he to do if the time comes? He can't pretend to save the Great Spirit on his own just because of a grudge!"

"Convince him yourself, then. Manage what the we, I shall admit, have failed to achieve: dozens of thousands of years we have tried to persuade him at least to forgive, and still he persists in his vitriol. He is stubborn, I told you - a stone that fights against change, against the forces of time."

He turned swiftly, making no sound: his vermillion eyes pinned Iruini in place, instilling in him a paralyzing sense of fear that seemed to snake around his neck like tendrils.

"You are his siblings now," Teridax sentenced with a murmur.

The Toa felt his muscles seize completely.

He shook his head, first slowly, then faster, faster, trying to bargain without words - they could not do it, they could not do it, how could they do it? How could simple Toa like them have taken on the destiny of the Mata themselves?

But the Makuta stared on, his Kraahkan eerily illuminated from within: "You must not share his burden," he whispered. "That is not something I can ask of you, nor order."

Then what?

What was he asking them?

What were they supposed to do?

"You are everything he has outside of this lair - outside of the Brotherhood." the enormous figure spoke with a low, begging tone, soft and quiet. Like a father on his knees, pleading for his son. "His world cannot only be a tangle of kraata, of viruses, of laboratories, severed from his own kin. There are thing we Makuta cannot teach him. There are things a Toa must learn from other Toa."

Unity.

The oppressing feeling lifted from the room.

Iruini gasped by reflex.

Teridax's eyes lost their frightening gleam in the dim light, resembling now only dots of scarlet easily lost beneath the black shape of his Kanohi. He almost looked small, for a moment.

He turned back to his task, his claws curling gently around the fragile vats as he grasped them, inspected them, set them away: "At ease," he murmured without looking at the being behind him as he dismissed him.

The Toa remained still at first. His feet tapped against the ground when he finally began to walk backwards, a little stunted; then a faint aspirated clunk clicked into place, and he was gone.

[misc-obeyme]

For the 1k prompt (which btw congrats) i would want to request that MC luck saves their life by axcidently summoning Michael

Hello there, anon!

So okay, this is just remnants of my 500 follower event lol. I haven't started the 1k event yet so I guess this is just a pre-event? Anyway...

I know I said any character aside from Mephisto, Raphael, and Thirteen, but I honestly did not even think about Michael. I wasn't expecting anyone to request him. I was going to say that I won't write for him, either, but then I changed my mind.

The thing about the other three is that we have some information on them and I feel like I know their characters fairly well except for how they are when they're being romanced. So I'm just waiting until they become dateable to start writing about them.

But Michael? We have very little info on him, just enough to get a glimpse into his character.

So I wrote this based entirely on my own headcanon of what I think he's like based on what we've seen so far. I described him, too, but again, that's entirely my own headcanon since we don't have an official design for him yet.

This takes place in the human world because I think if he showed up in the Devildom it would likely cause some problems. It also ended up almost twice as long as most of these little blurbs, but that's because I felt like I had to describe more than usual.

Anyway, I hope this is close to what you were looking for. I actually had a lot of fun writing it because I was able to take so many artistic liberties lol.

Thanks for the request!

GN!MC x Michael with prompt Luck

Warnings: well MC almost dies, but doesn't actually die so do with that what you will, also I would say a lot of making up stuff for Michael

You had returned to the human world for a little time away, to see your family and friends, to experience sunlight again. It was just a short time that you would be there, but you made sure to make the most of it.

And so you had decided to go on a little hike in a nature area nearby where you lived. It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining brightly that morning. It wasn't too hot out, so it was the perfect time to go enjoy the nature of the human world for a little bit.

You spent time in the Devildom flora, too, of course. But it wasn't quite the same as the familiar trees and plants of the human world. The sunlight streamed through a handful of white puffy clouds as you went, listening to the cheerful bird song, hearing the sound of a nearby stream. You pulled in a lungful of fresh air, thinking about how next time you might invite your favorite demon to come back to the human world with you. How nice it would be to walk this path with him side-by-side. To show him where you lived before you came to stay in the House of Lamentation.

You reached the edge of a tall cliff that overlooked a beautiful stretch of forest. Beneath you, you could see the tops of trees and the sparkle of a distant river. You took one step closer to the edge, wanting to see as much as you could, taking in the sight of the blue sky stretching out above you.

There was a hole in the ground right where you stepped and your ankle rolled. You felt yourself unable to stay standing, falling as the pain shot through your leg. You hoped to at least catch yourself on your hands when you hit the ground, reaching out desperately. But you were too close to the edge, the momentum of your body was too strong, and you felt yourself go over. Your fingers scraped the edge of the cliff as you went, still trying in those last seconds to stop yourself.

And then you were free falling. The wind was rushing past you, pushing on you, as you plummeted. Your mind was in complete panic, full on terror screaming through it, and you thought you might be screaming with your voice, too, but you were too disoriented to tell. You could sense a burning on your finger, so hot it made you shake your hand as an automatic response. But you still didn't register that fully as the fear overcame you.

You closed your eyes, prepared to hit the ground, prepared for pain at the very least and death at the very worst.

But you never hit the ground.

Instead, you stopped. It felt like you were suspended in midair. Your heart was still racing, your mind still screaming, but you could also feel arms around your waist and the still burning sensation around one of your fingers.

You opened your eyes and found yourself looking back at a man with large white wings that had an opalescent sheen to them. His arms were what you could feel around you. You could barely see his face because he was glowing so brightly - an almost blinding light. You looked down at your burning finger and saw a similar light radiating from the Ring of Light.

With a great flap of those mighty wings, you were propelled back upward. You felt your feet touch the ground, a little ways off from the edge of the cliff you had just fallen from.

The light dispersed from your ring, your finger no longer felt like it was being burned. The man who still held you lost his glow as well and suddenly you could make him out.

There was no doubt that you were looking at an angel. His eyes were like the eyes of all the other angels you knew, blue with a distinct halo shape inside it. But where normally there was gold, here you saw a prismatic shine of rainbow colors. His hair was long, cascading down his back in bright golden blond waves. His white garment was gathered at one shoulder, held there by a clasp made of opal and glass. His other shoulder was bare, half of his chest visible to you. A single gold chain hung around his neck. His wings spread out behind him, the pearly sheen of them glimmering in the sun.

You were mesmerized by this figure before you, but you were also still dealing with the adrenaline and fear of having almost lost your life. You found that at some point you had begun to grip the arms that were around your waist.

"Who…?" you managed to ask.

The angel smiled and you nearly fainted at the way it transformed his face, from concern to something that could only be described as beautiful.

"You know me," he said. "I'm Michael. You inadvertently summoned me as you were falling from the cliff. The Ring of Light let me know that you were in danger. It's lucky that I was able to leave the Celestial Realm in time to catch you."

Michael? The Michael? Well, it wasn't like this was the first time he had saved your life.

"Th-thank you," you said weakly.

"Are you going to be all right?" Michael asked.

You took several deep breaths before letting go of his arms and stepping away from him. "Yes," you said firmly. "I'm going to be fine. Thank you for saving me… again."

Michael chuckled. "I know you have no reason to trust me, MC," he said. "But I can often tell when you're in danger and I will intervene if I need to. My former brothers care for you very much. Please try to be more careful."

You nodded, still too overwhelmed with everything that had happened to form a real coherent thought.

Michael surprised you by reaching out to brush your cheek with his fingertips, his expression going soft. "I'm really beginning to understand what it is they see in you."

You stared at him, eyes wide, but you didn't have a chance to respond.

He smiled again, stepping back. "Farewell, MC. Until we meet again."

You had to shield your eyes as he began to glow again. He flapped his wings once, lifting into the sky, before simply disappearing in a glimmer of light.

You stared at the blue sky for some time before deciding you would go home earlier than you had anticipated. The fear of having almost fallen to your death was still fresh in your mind. And the feeling of that angel's arms around you persisted. You looked down at the ring on your finger and wondered just how much luck had been involved.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[smalltimidbean]

hi again! So I have a lot I wanna say following the anatomy post, as I'll be calling it, because even though it's fresh I read the whole thing and I'm glad we know more about the clones :D and also I assume now would be a good time to ask about because of how fresh it is. ANYWAYS let's get to it!

So I wanted to ask about these specific parts, and what I could tell from them:

To summarize, a clone bearing a toothy grin is threatening, and a clone sticking its tongue out/drooling/licking it lips is not threatening. This is the premise I worked under when I made this:

(In like, 2 minutes. I wonder if anyone can tell!)

As you can see, I added a few facial expressions that weren't mentioned l, and that I wonder their meaning in relation to what has already been stated. I think I can confidently predict what the first two mean, thanks to the fact that clones have made those facial expressions before. Though anyone is welcome to correct me if I'm wrong!

Closed-mouth and open-mouth smiles are not threats, unlike the toothy "smiles" which are. The quotation mark around "smile" in the original post(as well as a part of pep's toyhouse page(which didn't appear in the Tumblr post from several months past)) also indicate that the threatening smiles are not genuine, and so smiles without teeth are genuine expressions of joy.

The other one, though, seems to send somewhat mixed messages. That expression is saying both that "I am a threat" and "I am not a threat, " which when a applied to the only clone we ever see donning this face, Pep, is true. Though, whenever he smiles like that, it is genuine and not an attempt to threaten anyone. Is this because he's smiling at something or someone other than a fellow clone, and he knows that, in order to communicate the same emotion he has to make a different facial expression depending on if he's making it at clones on non-clones?

But uhh yeah :D hope this wasn't too long winded and that I made any sort of sense lol!

Yaya! I have a ton of clone info I wanna post, but I have been trying to figure out how/where to do that, so I might just unload it all here in chunks kjlfdkfg

Asking questions about clone stuff is alright, and it helps me figure out stuff, or point out if I have contradicted myself - which happens more than I would like kjfgkjfg

Although for these points, perhaps I spoke too broadly as this post was supposed to be on anatomy and not behaviour, but I guess I can't help myself kjdfgk - it is also why I did not mention other types of smile

But for clones there are genuine smiles, and there are threat 'smiles', like this;

Threat smiles are not expressions of joy, they are meant to convey 'I have teeth, and I will use them if you continue to upset me' or simply 'you are bothering me' if they are not showing teeth - whereas genuine smiles are just that, they are happy

If you add a tongue to a threat 'smile', it is still considered a threat due to other aspects like the eyes and stance etc, but more along the lines of either a submissive threat ('I am scared, please leave, or I will attack') or the clone is hungry ('I will eat you if approached, so back off for your own good') - but honestly it depends on the situation, sometimes clones already have their tongues out before threat 'smiling' and it ends up hanging out regardless dhfsdh

And yes, most of Pep's smiles have been genuine - there has been at least two with a threat 'smile' (both directed at or implied to be directed at Peppino) - but most of the time he is genuinely happy

It can be a bit confusing since clones are kinda animal, kinda people, so they get both that 'smiling is a threat' (animal side) and 'smiling is friendly' (people side) lfglgfd

When I make a post(s) on clone behaviours, I will be sure to make this more clear! But I still appreciate the questions!

[dancegender]

Heyyy, I wrote a one-shot for N x Thad that I'm posting. Prompt was 'playing video games' by @astronic-fr but there's honestly more setup than actual video games. Not a great writer, but I hope you guys like it anyway.

Storming Outside, But We're Safe In Here

Thad sighed, pausing his video game and standing up. After maybe an hour of walking and fruitless search, he finally managed to locate the dungeon he was looking for. Deciding to take a break before he went in, he propped himself against his wall to listen to the howling of the blizzard outside. He didn't really care for storms so much, but the wind was a pretty good source of background noise.

Right as he caught himself zoning out, Thad was startled back into sentience by a rather loud knock on the front door. He heard his mom call out, followed by a bit of shuffling and some footsteps. It wasn't until the door opened that he heard screaming and jumped to his feet, bolting towards the living room.

"Mom! What's going-" Thad started to speak but cut himself off, taking in the sight in front of him. His mother, still screaming, stood in the front doorway. Shoe in hand, she was swinging at a poor drone who was desperately trying to get a sentence out.

"Ma'am, please, I'm- ow! Not trying to- ouch! Hurt anyone- ow!"

Moving closer, Thad could see that is wasn't just a random drone at the door. It was N, Thad's newest friend, his body almost completely crusted over with ice. With some effort, Thad managed to position himself in front of N.

"Mom, mom, calm down! N's cool, he's not hurting anything."

Thad's mom paused mid-strike, staring blankly at her son. "THAT'S the N you were talking about?" She turned to face N. "I am so sorry! I've heard plenty of good things about you, but I never heard you were a disassembly drone."

"Oh, it's no big deal, don't worry about it," N's voice was a little hoarse when he spoke, like he was still waiting for his vocal cords to thaw out. He looked a mess, too, with his hair stuck up frozen in places and the small chunks of ice that hung from his visor; he was lucky drones couldn't get frostbite. This didn't seem like the charming, sweet, happy-go-lucky N that Thad was accustomed to.

"Come inside, N, you look like you could use some warming up." Thad was brought back to the present by his mom's voice. N simply shook his head.

"Oh no, It's fine. I just wanted to drop off this," N dug around in his pocket before pulling out a puzzle cube, holding it out to Thad. "You forgot it last time you stopped by the spire. Thought I'd return it and pop back home."

Thad accepted the cube, narrowing his eyes. "You flew all the way out here, through a blizzard, to return my puzzle cube. And now you want to leave, flying back through the blizzard again."

"Yes...?" N fidgeted, suddenly appearing to notice that the workers were staring at him like he'd lost his mind.

"Yeah, no, Uzi'd kill me if I let you do that," Thad grabbed N's hand, wincing at how cold it was, and dragged him through the door. "You're staying here, at least until the storm lets up."

It took maybe 10 minutes of negotiation, a few fuzzy blankets, and one very intense mom stare to convince N to wait out the blizzard. After warming up, N thankfully started to resemble himself again. Thad led him down the hall to his bedroom, picking up his controller and flopping down on the bed.

"Your mom's nice," N remarked, sitting down gently on the bed next to him. "Kinda thought you'd have your own place, though."

"Eh, not really," Thad sat up, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. "There's only so much living space in an underground bunker, and it's a long process to add more. It's pretty normal to not move out for a while, just 'cause there's not a whole lot of places to move to."

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense..." N noticed the screen mounted on the wall. "Ooh, whatcha playing?"

"Skyrim," Thad unpaused his game, walking up the grand dungeon's steps. "I was just about to raid this dungeon. You wanna try?" He held the controller out to N, who took it carefully.

"Sure!" N opened the dungeon door, barging right into the bandits gathered at the entrance. They began attacking, which prompted N to run in circles helplessly. "Thad, they're stabbing me."

Thad wasn't much help, though. He was laughing rather loudly, resting on N's shoulder to keep himself upright. "Yeah, they tend to do that," he managed in between breaths. "You've gotta hit 'em back. Press X and use the triggers."

N obeyed, watching Thad's weapons come into view. In the right hand, he held a shimmering, pale green dagger. In the left, a swirling mass of deep red. N pressed the right trigger, affectively slashing the bandit in front of him, who promptly burst into flames.

"Woah!" N laughed, whirling around to strike another bandit. Thad closed his eyes briefly, taking in the sound of N's laughter. They'd really only ever met under serious circumstances, so the casual cheer in his friend's voice was a welcome change of pace. N turned around, activating the reddish aura sitting in his left hand.

"That's a spell attack," Thad explained. He pushed himself off of N, remaining close enough for their shoulders to still be touching. "Don't use it too much, though, it drains your Magicka."

They managed to get through the dungeon rather quickly, easily killing the bandit chief. Now, all that was left to do was to collect the bounty money.

"Hey Thad, how do I-" N turned towards his friend, starting to ask a question, but cut himself off abruptly. Thad hadn't noticed himself leaning into N during their quest. He only realized just how close they were when N's cheek came into contact with his own, a thin stream of electricity sparking between their faces.

They stayed frozen like that for a while, neither entirely sure of what to do. A steady blush fizzled to life in the corners of both their visors to accompany their wide eyes. Their weird trance was finally broken by the sounds of snarling coming from the game.

"Shit, we're dying!" Thad shook N slightly, motioning to the wolves of the screen. Snapping back to reality, N strengthened his grip on the controller.

"Biscuits!" N readied his weapons, swiftly taking out the wolf pack. Turning back to Thad, his usually animated expression was nearly unreadable.

"You good?" Thad asked quietly, hesitantly raising a hand to rest on N's back. N grabbed his wrist, quickly moving Thad's hand to his face instead. He kept his own hand on the back of Thad's, relaxing slightly into the touch.

"Yeah, I... I think I'm good," N's voice was uncharacteristically quiet. Thad offered a small smile, using his free hand to brush some of the hair out of N's eyes.

"Well, that's good," Thad brought his hand briefly to the other side of N's face before grasping his jacket and yanking him forwards, causing them to both fall back on the bed. N yelped, dropping the controller.

"Really, dude?" He said, propping himself up on his elbows. Thad barked out a laugh in place of a real response, and N laughed too, loud and bright and wonderful. Thad sat back up, grabbing the discarded controller and accessing the world map. N followed suit, snaking his arms around Thad's torso and resting his chin on Thad's shoulder.

In all his life, Thad never thought that he would be grateful for a blizzard. Now, though, he wondered if he'd ever be this grateful for a blizzard again.

[therealityhelix]

Shards of the Nexus: Regression Engine

There's a reason he wanted to be somebody else.

Takes place before Seeker and Seer.

Warning! Bit of nasty language. Also, this is a long one.

@cardwrecks @captainbaddecisions

Song: Don't Let Me Get Me-P!ink

The alcohol both numbed and lifted him, blending with the thrumming music to create a fizzy, dizzying sensation in his head. The dance floor spun along with him, the lights a spangling rainbow in the dark. A writhing human ocean of bodies and hands pressing against him, a hundred clashing perfumes and colognes rising to the ceiling, buoyed on a cloud of sweat.

Swag loved this feeling.

Usually.

Tonight, the dizziness wasn't a release, it was just disorientation, and he wobbled across the dance floor, to wind his way upstairs. On his way there, he somehow latched arms with a few people, who ended up in his room with him, but he didn't have any complaints. And he made sure they didn't either.

When he dragged himself out of bed in the morning-well, midmorning-well, noon actually-only two of them were still there. He hoped the others hadn't fucked with any of his stuff on their way out, but his reputation still held on enough that most people didn't.

He was well aware that a lot of the people who found their way into his bed were in it for the thrill of who he'd used to be. The challenge, the bragging rights, the curiosity. Whatever. He didn't mind; he got to have a good time too, after all. Most of them didn't stick around for long afterward though.

These two, however, seemed to at least want breakfast.

“So big boy, you as good in the kitchen as you are in the sheets?” one asked.

His laugh was rough with sleep and residual alcohol.

“Unfortunately, no. I put all my extra points into my hips, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I do. That's okay, I can throw us something together. How d'you like your eggs?”

“Scramb-” he began, cutting off as he noticed her face fade from flirty, to frightened.

“What the fuck is that?” she whispered, pointing to one corner of his bedroom.

An anomalous form hunched there, pale gray and shifting, just barely humanoid. One of those damn wizard aliens! He didn't have much patience for these things.

“i'm curious about you”

Its voice slithered into his mind, nothing more than a whispered breath, as lacking in detail as its blank face.

“The feeling ain't mutual. Now scram!”

“Is it talking to you?” the other one asked, both partners taking shelter behind him. He glanced back.

“Hey, don't worry, okay? It's weird, but it'll be all right. Hey, you're freaking out my guests! Beat it!”

“i'm curious about how you were once one way but are now another way

how is that

humans can't really change so how are you doing it”

“Man, it's a long story, and I don't really feel like telling you. I just decided to, okay?”

“just decided to act differently and dress differently and be different

what part of it allows you to be different”

“The indomitable human spirit and my slammin' fashion sense. Go away.”

“ah your 'swag' as you humans put it

what a quaint concept

all that garish color and pointless detail

what if you didn't have that”

“Then I'd be naked.” Swag sneered. “Well...more naked.”

“then I expunge your 'swag' and all it entails

i want to see what will happen”

“Bro, that is so fuckin' stu-”

Magic flipped him inside out like a photo negative, a spool winding backwards. A spurt of malevolence splashed though his veins, making his fluffy bathrobe uncomfortably hot. He tore it from his thin form, and dropped it on the ground. Everything in the room felt wrong. Stifling. Everything was so...so fuzzy and soft, so clogged with dust, the perfect home for mites and allergens, and who knew what other kinds of potential pests and infestations?

It wasn't just the clothes. It wasn't just the clothes that made him who he was, it was the attitude, the demeanor, the coping mechanism he used to direct his mind away from its old paths. The Gray had lumped everything under the umbrella term of 'swag' and snatched it all away.

And who was he without that?

He knew. Unfortunately, he knew.

His sideburns itched, unnecessary, extraneous growths that served no purpose but to gather dirt. Everything was dirty; when was the last time anything in here had been cleaned?

“Eddie? Baby, are you okay?” One of the strangers placed their hand on his arm. He shoved them away immediately.

“Don't touch me!” he shouted, eyes wild. “You're filthy! All of you are covered in disease! Don't-”

They recoiled in fear.

“Fuck. Sorry. S-sorry, I didn't mean that.” he stammered, battling back a flood of anger and disgust. “Sorry, just...just don't touch me. You should...you should probably leave.”

“What happened?” the other asked, reaching out. “Do you need help?”

“Get out!”

He shoved them again, and this time, he didn't feel nearly as sorry.

They ran from him, but it didn't matter.

He needed to go check his cameras.

?~?~?~?~?

Something was wrong. Something was wrong.

It scuttled up the back of Detective's scalp, ruffling hairs along the way.

Something was wrong.

They hurried into their study, snatching up a small velvet bag along the way. Seating themselves at their antique leathertop desk, they lit a candle. They stared into the little flame, breathing deeply to push back against rising panic.

Once they had regained control, they opened the velvet bag, removing an ornate tarot deck.

What was the universe trying to tell them? They asked the cards while shuffling, slipping out three, and spreading them out on the desk.

The Five of Cups. The Tower. And off to the side, Temperance, reversed.

Regret. Failure. Terrible upheaval. And...

Swag.

They had to go find Swag. Something was wrong.

The world of the Question Mark shimmered at the edge of their vision. Swag. And danger. A faraway figure out on the horizon.

By the time they realized they were walking, their feet had already taken them to his doorstep.

Inside, everything was quiet and still. Detective heard muffled voices, and followed them to their source.

Swag perched on a chair in the kitchen, sketching on a roll a paper spread over the table.

“Crushing is always such a fun possibility.” Arkham's voice floated, tinny and harsh, from Swag's phone. “The walls closing in, just slowly enough that the victim can see what is going to happen, and panic at their own helplessness. The desperation. The inevitable ending. Such a good time. Well, when you're on the outside anyway. I have some of the parts you might need, if you feel like swinging by.”

“Hm. Not a bad suggestion.” Swag said. “But you'll forgive me if I don't jump at the opportunity to make myself vulnerable in somebody else's lair.”

“Will I?” Arkham said. “I suppose I will. Just this once.”

“Poisoning, perhaps.” Swag mused. “Something slow-acting. Pose the riddle and watch their terror grow as they begin to drop on the dance floor. If someone solves it, they get the antidote, but only the one who answered. Make it competitive.”

“Desperation and selfishness. A delight. But I thought you wanted blood?”

“Perhaps more metaphorically than literally, but I certainly wouldn't mind. Actually, there's enough space in here that I could put together a whole gauntlet without much trouble. I think I'll do that.”

“Swag?” Detective asked, worried. This kind of talk was...uncomfortable.

Swag held his hand up in a silencing gesture.

“How do you keep an idiot waiting?” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Arkham asked.

“Nothing to worry about. An interruption has arrived. I'll see to it.”

“Shall I call back?” Arkham offered.

“I think not. It's not that your company is unpleasant or anything, it's just that I know you're trying to distract me, and I'm not inclined to let you continue. Clever attempt though. I'm sure we'll cross paths later.”

Better hope not.” Arkham said, and they both laughed. Swag hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you later.” he finished the riddle, a drawl of challenge in his rolling tone. “So. You.”

“I can't help but feel as though you are on the edge of doing something you might later regret.”

“Something you might regret perhaps, but I'm feeling better than ever.” Swag asserted, holding his arms out wide. His eyes held no happiness that they could detect, just a manic sort of fervor. “I'm leaving behind all of my guilt and anxiety, ditching the false face. I'm letting that moron die and rising back up from the ashes. Call it an act of self care.”

“I shan't.” Detective said. “The Swag I know-”

Swag slammed his fist down on the table. Detective flinched.

“You never knew me.” he growled. “All you knew was a mask. A fucking jester. A coping mechanism that rose as a defense to too much thinking. He was, by nature and by design, my lesser.”

“He is loved.” Detective insisted. “What has brought this on? If you were truly so dissatisfied with things, why not speak with us about it? It's terrible to see you like this.”

“You will learn to like it!” Swag snapped. “Just like everyone else. Honestly, you act like I've killed somebody's best friend...which I have. Just not today. Not yet.”

“I will not allow-”

“It isn't your choice.” Swag cut them off. “Really, this infatuation of yours is pointless. Don't mourn that disgrace, Detective, welcome his restored superior! And also, leave. I have work to do.”

“Swag-” Detective stepped forward, stopping abruptly as the tip of Swags pen came up beneath their chin.

“Think you can take me?” Swag asked. “You aren't armed, are you? You don't bring weapons here. Swag's not dangerous, after all.”

Detective backed away.

“I shall take my leave.” they said.

?~?~?~?~?

No answer.

“Maybe he didn't hear?” Narci suggested.

“He'd better not be 'occupied'.” Puzzles grumbled, typing into his phone. “He knows we were coming, and I am not playing second fiddle to some floozie.”

He rang the doorbell several more times.

“Come on you strutting voluptuary, don't you dare leave us waiting.”

The door slammed open. Narci jumped. A stranger shoved his head out.

“What do you fucks want?” He snapped.

It was Swag, Puzzles realized with a shock. Clean-shaven and divested of his jewelry, hair slicked back under an olive green bowler. He glared coldly at them, and Narci shifted uncomfortably.

“You, uh, you were going to show me how to rewire an intercom system?” Narci said quietly, staring.

Swag sneered.

“Too stupid to figure it out on your own?”

“No!” Narci protested. “Of course not! You just said you were going to show us some tricks.”

Swag scoffed. He was actually in a suit for once, and...carrying a cane?

Something felt wrong here. Swag wasn't just in a bad mood. He felt different somehow.

“All right, spill it. Something's wrong with you.”

“How about you go fuck yourself.” Swag growled.

“How about I don't, and you tell me what's going on?” Puzzles shot back. “What's happened to you?”

“Nothing that needs to concern you. I had a change of heart, nothing more. I'm just trying to get something done, and I am out of patience with these interruptions.”

“What are you trying to do?” Narci asked.

“None of your business. Let's just say that Gotham needs a reminder. They've grown too complacent in my absence. I've been far too frivolous. Well, I mean to remedy that mistake.”

“Wait!” Narci cut in. “I could help you! If you could use another great mind, another pair of hands. We could punish this city together!”

Puzzles glanced aside. Narci had that weird look in his eyes again. The kid just got like that sometimes, like a curious dog, he just wanted to be involved in everything. Puzzles was vaguely aware of his isolated childhood, but there was a time and a place, and this definitely wasn't it.

But Swag-well, not Swag exactly right now, more like Less Swag, Opposite Swag, UnSwag-laughed mockingly.

“You? The constant failure? You're worthless. You don't have the respect of a single member of this wankfest of a Family, and you're going to help me? More like you need me to help you look better. Get lost you over-inflated fuck suit. You too, Autism Speaks, shove off before I bury you both.”

Puzzle's lip curled as Narci drew back, obviously hurt.

“No wonder you wanted to be anything other than this. You're insufferable.”

“Oh no, the twerp doesn't like me, how will I go on with my life? Go cry to mama, and get out of my parking lot.”

The UnSwag waved his cane threateningly at them. Puzzles eyed it cautiously. A Riddler's cane could be a dangerous thing; Puzzles own had a battery powered taser just under the question mark curl, a fear toxin dart in the bottom, and a short blade that could flick out of the side. Swag's preferred arsenal while he was a Riddler was a mystery to the Family.

“Perhaps a calculated retreat is in order.” Puzzles said quietly.

“He didn't have to say it like that.” Narci muttered, but he followed Puzzles away without arguing. “That's not...That's not actually true. I don't always fail. I'm not worthless. That's not true.”

“I'm sure you'll become capable eventually if you just keep at it.” Puzzles said, ignoring the betrayed glance the boy shot him. It was true. For the most part. Not many among them genuinely liked Narci, mostly just tolerating his antics for Nash's sake. Narci did have a lot left to prove, and whining about it wouldn't fix the problem. “More importantly; what's gotten into him? He has never acted that way since I've known him. We've argued before, and I know he is capable of being unreasonable, but I've never felt actually threatened before.” Puzzles mused, Narci sulking alongside him.

“Maybe he's just had enough.” Narci grumbled. “It could happen to anyone. Even m-even him.”

“Enough of what? The man is a bottomless pit of hedonistic debauchery.”

“But he wasn't always like that, was he? He was somehow else before...before all this. Maybe he got tired of people only thinking of him in one way. Maybe he needs to remind people what he's capable of.”

“Doesn't sound right.” Puzzles said dismissively. “But strange things do happen. We should probably let him be until this passes. Come on, we still need to talk about that sapphire heist.”

“I said I was sorry!” Narci groaned. “I just misunder...I just...”

“You were just wrong, and it cost us! Now come on!”

?~?~?~?~?

Nash spotted him near a wall panel tugging at a mess of wiring. This place was probably an electrical labyrinth, though maybe not quite as bad as the small lairs and foxholes Nash typically hid out in. Nash knew the Question Mark had once been an old warehouse; refurbishing those into hotspots for the night life was pretty common in Gotham, but Swag had really gone all out. On the inside, at least, it was impossible to tell what the building had once been.

Swag turned to look at him. Was he wearing a hat? That was odd.

Overlying his mind and perceptions, Lust hissed.

Nash stepped back, wary.

Swag smiled lightly, eyes sly.

“Good instincts.” he said. “But it took you just a little too long anyway.”

“Is...is something wrong?” Nash asked. Swag shrugged.

“Not from my perspective. Did we have plans? It doesn't matter, they'll have to be canceled, just like the rest. I find myself unexpectedly busy.”

This...this was wrong. Nash could still feel Lust bristling, able to sense things Nash couldn't, but he didn't need that to know something was terribly off here. Swags clothes...well they were always bright, eye-catching, stylish in a way that was either on the edge of going out of style, or just about to come back into style. Swag lived on the edges, shaped them and was shaped by them, but this green suit, that bowler hat, it was somehow lacking in the vibrancy Swag was known for.

And had he shaved???

Was this the same Swag, or yet another Riddler from another world? Nash knew Swag had been a Riddler, but not during the time Nash had known him. Not during the time any of them had known him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Some kind of vague being came by and we had a talk. I came to the understanding that things were simply not working out the way I'd hoped. Oh well. I gave it a try, but I couldn't deny my destiny forever.”

“A vague... a Gray? Did a Gray do this to you?”

“A Gray? Can't I make my own mind up? Oh never mind, it doesn't matter. I have things to do.”

He didn't even sound like Swag. The easy-going affectation dropped entirely in favor of a mocking, almost angry tone.

“What are you planning?” Nash asked. He eyed the wires worming out of the panel.

“Grand re-opening tonight.” Not-Swag said. “This place will be filled with the most vapid, frivolous socialites middle class Gotham has to offer. How many of them do you think will make it out?”

A deathtrap. Swag was building a deathtrap. It was wrong. That wasn't what Swag did!

“Will Swag ever come back?”

Not-Swag rolled his eyes.

“He never left. I'm Swag. He's me! Ugh, why did I ever allow anyone to call me that? Fucking ridiculous. The disrespect I allowed...well that's over now. I'm him, he's me, we're the same person. I was always here, I was just wearing a different mask. Trying a different mode of being, but it didn't work. Too fragile a concept to build a life off of. Anxiety, pointless hedonism. No direction. No, I had already found what I was meant to be, no use in denying it any longer. It's time for a comeback. Now, why don't you come over here?”

Nash could feel Lust's denial, and he didn't feel very safe either. He backed up even farther.

“I think I'm gonna go...”

“Get over here, Nash. You won't have to do much. Just be tied to a chair so the others don't keep bothering me.”

“~The doorway over there~” Lust whispered in his mind. “~The worlds are thin there. I can get us through~”

“Come here, you fucking brat!” Not-Swag lunged for him.

“~Run for it!~” Lust screeched.

Nash threw himself blindly through the doorway-

-and stumbled into an entirely different building to sprawl, disoriented, on someones kitchen floor. He heard the patter of footsteps approaching and tried to climb to his feet. They were upon him before he knew it.

“Nash? When did you get here?”

“Oh, Nash! Are you all right?”

They helped him up, arms around his thin shoulders to stabilize him. Puzzles and Narci, their concerned faces hovering close to his. He was safe.

“Swag!” he gasped. “Something's wrong with him!”

Puzzles frowned, Narci's pale eyes slid away from Nash's face.

“We know.” Puzzles said. “We had an unfortunate encounter with him earlier. He was incredibly unpleasant.”

“Don't like seeing him this way.” Narci muttered. “Feels wrong.”

The three of them lapsed into an uncomfortably contemplative silence. They were the youngest of their group, just starting out on a journey that Swag had already ended. Narci and Nash were still figuring what the persona of the Riddler meant for them, and Puzzles only had a few years of experience under his belt. Swag was an odd outlier, but he was still a respected elder by now, at least in their youthful perspective.

And yet this thing that they all wanted so desperately to grow into, felt so wrong on Swag, who actually had once been that thing.

“It was a Gray.” Nash said. “He described it to me. He thinks he's made this decision himself, but it was one of those awful things.”

Puzzles sighed in irritation. “I suspected it might be something along those lines.”

“What's a Gray?” Narci asked.

“You haven't seen them?” Nash was surprised. He thought everyone had to deal with the mischievous creatures. Narci shook his head.

“Count yourself lucky.” Puzzles said. “They're some kind of magical being-yes, I know, but they are.” he insisted at Narci's disbelieving expression.

“They don't have any faces.” Nash explained. “They're all gray all over, and they kinda look like they're made out of slime or fog. They only barely look human. They talk inside your head. They're really creepy. They cast magic on you, like curses. They can make you do stupid things, or change your shape, or...practically anything! It's like they're playing pranks.”

“But they have been known to go too far.” Puzzles said bitterly. “Cause major problems for their own entertainment. Mostly they're just annoying, but they can be downright dangerous at times. The one saving grace is that their magic is nearly always temporary. This UnSwag has an expiration date. He'll go back to normal in a day or two. We'll just avoid him until then.”

“What about his customers?” Nash asked.

“What about them?” Puzzles said. “They can go a few nights without practicing their debauchery, I'm sure.”

“But he didn't close the club!” Nash exclaimed. “He's turning it into a deathtrap!”

Narci gasped. Puzzles stared at the ceiling with an irritated groan.

“Of course he is. This couldn't be easy, oh no, no, no. Instead, he has to go and do something that will get him tossed back in Arkham after the Gray magic wears off. This is why these creatures are so insidious, Narci. Their magic is temporary, but it can have long lasting consequences.”

“What do we do?” Narci asked. His feather light voice was laced with a fear Nash had never heard him express. He understood though. They could lose one of their number over this. One of their special Family. He and Narci didn't really have many people to turn to, and Narci had only recently been getting closer to the older members of the group. A few bad run-ins with Arkham had left him shy and demoralized.

But Swag had always been friendly. Always ready with another chance, even when Narci had been rude, or awkward, or-worst of all-wrong about something. He'd shown the same welcoming face to Puzzles and Nash too, even though Nash was technically too young to be allowed into the club during business hours, and Puzzles...well in the interest of being honest, Puzzles could get pretty rude about things too sometimes. Nash thought it must be a way of protecting himself. Even so, Swag still let him in.

“Well...We're Riddlers, aren't we?” Puzzles mused. “So, we stop him. Before he can kill anybody, and before any vigilantes show up. This is our business. We'll take care of it.”

Both boys nodded, dead serious.

“Okay. Narci, you go try to find YJ. I'll talk to Arkham. Nash, I want you to get Detec-”

“No need.” Detective's voice floated up from Puzzles left arm. “I'm already here~”

Puzzles shoved up his sleeve, revealing the tiny computer strapped there.

“Did you hack my Wrist Buddy?” he exclaimed, irritated and impressed.

“Never mind that. Do let me in. We have something to discuss.”

Grumbling, Puzzles typed a code into the tiny keyboard, and the front door unlocked. Detective entered without further preamble.

They were dressed for business, in a sleek green blazer over gray shirt and slacks, a green derby hiding their vermilion hair. They were even wearing their mask! Nash had never seen that before. They looked...dangerous. Not like the mothering figure Nash had grown to know, but like the debonair villain they had once been.

Narci stared with unabashed awe. Puzzles, on the other hand, crossed his arms and leaned against the counter.

“One would almost think you knew something in advance.” he said impudently.

“I did foresee something happening.” Detective replied.

“Oh, you foresaw it? How inconvenient that you didn't see fit to clue anybody else in!”

Nash squirmed. The Detective had visions. Claimed to have visions, anyway. And while Puzzles acknowledged the otherworldly beings that Nash was friends with, and the Grays with their magic, he did not entirely accept the Detectives oracular assertions.

“I didn't see exactly what it was. You know it doesn't work that way.”

“What a helpful ability.”

“Puzzles, we don't have time for this. Let's argue about it over tea some other time.”

“Yeah.” Narci said disapprovingly. “We have to help Swag. I'll go get YJ.”

“No, dears. I saw this too. YJ is too far away, and Arkham is too curious about the outcome to involve himself. He merely wishes to observe.”

“We'll see about that.” Puzzles typed speedily on his tiny wrist keyboard. “I'll contact him myself...Oh.”

The answer he got pulled his mouth into a frown. Detective cleared their throat.

“As I was saying, I saw something important pertaining to Swag. And then I spoke to him.”

“Odious, isn't he?” Puzzles said at Detective's disgruntled expression.

“Swag made an important decision about where to go with his life, and while it may be different that what you three would do, it was his choice. That has been taken from him, by force of magic, and that cannot be allowed. We make our own fates, and we must support each other in our decisions. We will not allow him to fall. So, suit up dear children. We're staging a coup~”

“How many times do I have to tell you I am not a child?” Puzzles complained, but Nash and Narci were already dashing back to their respective universes, to gear up.

Nash didn't have much; a mismatched thrift store Sunday suit, made for someone much younger than him. A shoplifted self defense keychain he could stab with. A miniature canister of pepper spray. He also had a lockpick that he hid in his department store trilby, and a very sharp hat pin, as well as a pocket knife, a portable usb drive with a deadly computer virus, a set of jewelers tools that he used on wiring, and one of YJ's smoke bombs. Nash tied his mask-just a strip of black cloth with holes cut out-around his head, and returned through the worlds, to Puzzles apartment.

Puzzles had taken the time to gear up as well, in his coveted kelly green suit and brilliant purple gloves. The colors smashed against each other, practically glowing at the edges. The classic bowler perched on his head and sleek mask always made him look older, and Nash knew he had some wicked weaponry hidden away.

Narci didn't have many places to hide things in his form-fitting, hand painted unitard and gymnasts shoes, but Narci carried few weapons or tools. He didn't need them; Narci was actually very strong, and could hold his own well in a fight, all of which was clear by merely a look at him in this getup. Any items he needed, he kept in a slender harness that girded his waist and thighs. He said it was to keep his freedom of movement, and Nash knew he'd been training as a gymnast ever since he could walk, but Nash couldn't help but bashfully notice how the harness accentuated certain of Narci's assets. In fact, the outfit put everything on display, and with his tight black curls, and slim, diamond shaped mask that hid very little of his face, it seemed like Narci wanted to be seen.

He practically posed; shoulders back and chest out, nose proudly in the air. He was only an inch taller than Nash, but seemed much bigger next to Nash's shrinking slouch.

“Have we got everything we need?” Detective asked. All three young men nodded. “All right. You have all been to the Question Mark before. Do you know the internal layout?”

“I've been inside.” Puzzles said. “I know how both floors are laid out.”

“Me too.” Nash added.

“I've only seen the first floor.” Narci admitted.

“All right. So here's what we'll do.”

?~?~?~?~?

The crowd outside the Question Mark was thick with people and irony; scattered among clubbers finery were people sporting Riddler costumes-the gallows humor of Gotham. Everyone knew who owned this nightclub, as Swag had not just not hidden the fact, but had actively banked on it.

Puzzles slipped unnoticed into the crowd, making his way up to the front where he immediately picked a fight with the bouncer. The others used the distraction to find a way into one of the areas few surveillance blind spots.

“Do you think you can do it?” Detective asked quietly. Narci scanned the wall carefully, taking in the texture of the bricks, the decorative façade, the bars on the windows, the height of the roof.

“Yes.” he said confidently, and began to climb. Nash watched him scramble up the building, taking out security cameras and motion sensors along the way. His job was to destroy as much of the security system as possible; especially the flood lights on the roof. They didn't move again until Narci had disappeared over the top, then they sneaked along, hugging the wall, until reaching nearly the back of the building.

This area was employees only, and fenced in with tall chain link. Nash was a Gotham youth, and scaled it easily, pausing at the barbed wire coiled at the top. His jeweler's tools included a wire cutter, and after a few tries, he was able to remove a length of the barbed wire wide enough for him to pass through. Back on the asphalt, he began working on the lock. It was good quality, but nothing Nash couldn't pick. Swag was protecting against the basic Gotham punks, after all, not other Riddlers.

In the meantime, Detective had set down their briefcase and opened it, lifting out a honed woodcutter's ax, with a handle wrapped in blue leather.

“It's one of Jervis's.” They said at Nash's stare. “He insisted I bring it with me. It may prove useful after all.”

The lock clicked in Nash's hand, and he tossed it over his shoulder, letting the Detective breeze through the gate. It sucked they had to cause all this damage, but it was better than letting Swag get dragged off to jail just because some Gray thought it'd be funny.

Detective began examining the power meter, but Nash noticed movement and pulled them back around the corner. The two peeked around to see a pair of very tough looking women approach the employees entrance.

“Oh dear.” Detective whispered. “This could be bad. I've seen those two before; they're this worlds Query and Echo. Rotten luck that they'd be here tonight.”

“I'll distract them.” Nash volunteered. Detective grabbed his arm.

“You mustn't try to fight them.” they insisted. “They are very dangerous!”

“I won't.” Nash said. “Just trust me, okay?”

Detectives lips thinned out, but they let go.

Nash stuck his hands in his pockets, let his head droop and walked into the employee parking lot, kicking at a rock.

The women paused. He let just a little bit of his secret power seep out, a supernatural drug that mentally disarmed anyone who looked at him. These two would see whatever it was that would make them most sympathetic towards him.

“Hey, either of you two got two dollars I can borrow?”

“What's the matter kid?” one asked. “Fake ID didn't work out?”

“Yeah.” Nash said sullenly, petulance seeping out of his demeanor. “And my ride says she's gonna stay anyway, and I don't have any bus fare. Can't call my mom to come pick me up; I'd be grounded for a month.”

He'd slowly made his way over to them, acting exactly like a defeated teenager, and both women smiled condescendingly.

“Ha. It was a nice try kid. Here, take this and come back in a few years.”

Nash was just reaching out to take the money, mind whirring on how to continue the distraction, when the floodlights went out.

“What the fu-”

Nash whipped his hand out of his pocket and threw YJ's smoke bomb to the ground. It exploded into a miasma of choking green. Behind him, the sound of metal striking brick as Detective took the chance to shear the meter clean off the wall. The rest of the external lights went dark.

Beside him, something dropped into the cloud of smoke, landing on one of the searching women with a heavy thud. Nash flinched and threw himself through the employee entrance, hoping Narci hadn't killed her with the impact.

He skidded down the hall, hugging the walls, as the sounds of fighting faded behind him. The area was bathed in eerie green, the emergency lighting casting deep shadows.

“Lust, help me hide.” Nash whispered.

“~Of course. Relax yourself and let me embrace you~”

Nash concentrated on relaxing his body through the tickling sensation of Lusts hundreds of amorphous tendrils breaching his skin. They wrapped tightly around every inch of his body, covering him in a smoky bodysuit of shifting shadows.

Now camouflaged, he slinked down the hall and up the stairs, not entering the dance floor. He was sure it was trapped, waiting for hapless revelers to meet their makers. Maybe they deserved it, maybe they didn't; Nash didn't care about that very much, but he knew that Swag would.

He crept along the second story, the darkness itself seeming to muffle his steps. A door banged open, and Nash threw himself into the bedroom doorway, heart in his throat. UnSwag stalked by and down the stairs, grumbling angrily about the power.

Nash skittered into the newly vacated room before the door shut. It was full of darkened screens and neatly lined computer towers, their whirring hum silenced.

Swag had backup generators. Of course he would. He must have. And that's where UnSwag had to be heading. Nash readied his usb drive. The screens flickered back to life, and Nash jammed the usb in. He might only have a few moments.

Fingers flying he unleashed the malevolent little worm of code, then slipped back out into the now worryingly lit hallway. Down the stairs, towards the exit-

Snatched off his feet, and slammed headfirst into the wall. Lust took the edge off the blow, but it still rattled Nash's brain. UnSwag twisted his arm behind him, held him by his hair, and dragged him out onto the dance floor.

“Hey guys! You looking for this? You fucking looking for this?” He shook Nash hard, who squealed under the pressure on his arm. Narci, Puzzles, and the Detective all turned from their positions creeping along the walls in search of traps.

“Lust!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“~If I do it, he will be harmed! Perhaps permanently~” the demon whispered from within him. “~I can get you free, but he might not recover~”

“Hold off then. We didn't come to kill him.”

“Stop mumbling, brat.” UnSwag growled in his ear. “Whatever code you're trying to use, it won't work. They won't do a thing while I have you. Isn't that right?”

Detective held their hands up, palms empty. Jervis's hatchet was nowhere to be seen.

“Please. There is no need to endanger the boy.” they said gently.

“He endangered himself. He didn't have to throw in with you and invade my home, but he did. He made his own choice. There are consequences for that.”

“Look, we're not trying to hurt you or anything.” Puzzles said. “We're just trying to save you from regrets.”

“Who asked you?”

“You would have, if you were in your right mind. But you are being controlled right now, by one of those gray beings-”

“Puzzles!”

“Wrong answer!” UnSwag snarled, and flung Nash out onto the trapped floor.

The others began shouting. Nash hit a pressure plate, heard it click.

Nothing.

“What.” UnSwag said. Nash rose from the floor, grinning like the devil.

“Oops.” he said. “I think I broke it. Sorry.”

UnSwag shoved his hand into his jacket. Whatever he was reaching for, he never made it. Narci hit him with freight train force, and he went down instantly. Nash winced. Narci never did pull his punches.

The acrobatic Riddler swiftly had UnSwag tied with a cord from his harness. He immediately started wiggling free, so Narci perched on his back and held him down.

“Wow. One punch.” Puzzles sneered. “You are going to be so embarrassed when you wake up.”

“I am already awake!” UnSwag insisted. “Why don't any of you see? It was all just a pipe dream! It was never real. This is who I have always been.”

“Then why is this temporary?” Puzzles asked. “Why did you have to be pushed back into it by force? You know it's temporary, don't you?”

“It doesn't matter! I am who I'll always be! No matter what mask he puts on, I'll still be here. He'll never be rid of me. And what does it matter to you anyway? Why would you go so far to stop me?”

“We are rather fond of our dear Swag~” Detective said. “And we respect the decisions he has made.”

“Why do you like me that way so much? I've made an imbecile of myself, and I'm only trying to rectify that. You three! Isn't this the life you've chosen? And you! You might have retired, but you didn't put your brain on the shelf! All I do as your precious 'Swag', is waste my time with harlots and drink to oblivion. I hate him as me. It was a mistake.”

“You don't see the value in your own choices?” Detective asked. “You've put in so much effort. Do you see what you've built? The people still dance to your tune, it's just more literal this time.”

“Don't fucking start. That shit might work on these fetuses, but not-”

Narci stroked his hair gently, and UnSwag shuddered.

“Don't touch me!”

“Swag is perfect.” Narci asserted. “In a different way from us, yes. But you are wonderful like that.”

“Bullshit. None of us actually get along.” he jutted his chin towards Puzzles. “That little bitch hates everyone. The brat over there can't be trusted. And you...” he bucked, trying to throw Narci off. “Even as that frivolous idiot, I still don't respect you. No one does.”

Narci sighed, and stroked his hair once more.

“I know. But you tolerate me, and that's important too. In time, I'll earn the rest of it. I know how to work hard to become something great. That's why I can't stand to see you like this. All that effort, taken away.”

UnSwag groaned in annoyance.

“So what about the rest of you? Any more pithy speeches before I fade back into featherbrained worthlessness?”

“Two to midnight.” Puzzles said, checking his wrist computer.

“Nothing to say.” Nash added.

“Now we simply wait.” Detective finished.

“Fine.” UnSwag said. “If that's the official consensus. Just know that if this ever happens again, you're all on the list. So nobody better ever bring me back.”

“It'll be okay.” Narci said, stroking his hair one last time. “It'll be over soon.”

“Don't touch me.” UnSwag repeated. “Just...let me sleep, I guess.”

Instead of looming over their defeated foe, Detective, Puzzles, and Nash gathered to sit on the floor next to Narci and UnSwag. He lay quietly, as they all waited together for the last moments of the past to trickle away.

Puzzles wrist computer beeped. Everyone held their breath. If they were right about the temporary nature of Gray magic...

“Hey Narci? You're a handsome young man and' all, but would you mind getting the fuck off? Kinda crushin' my ribcage here.”

Narci hopped off his back immediately. Nash reached out for the rope binding him.

“Wait!” Detective commanded. “Relief cannot be allowed to overcome caution. If you would all be so kind as to move away...”

The young Riddlers drew back.

Detective knelt next to their captive and raised him up by the shoulders. Looked into the clean shaven face, the deep blue eyes, and kissed him, long and deep.

Narci gasped, but Nash knew they were like that sometimes.

“Disgusting.” Puzzles muttered. But when they parted, Swag was smiling.

“Hell of a welcome home. Got any more for me? I'm already all tied up, after all. But we probably better send the kiddies home first.”

“It's him.” Puzzles said flatly.

Nash and Narci cheered.

They untied him, checked him for injuries-Narci had hit him pretty hard after all. Narci apologized endlessly, but Swag waved it off.

“Not like I didn't earn it.”

“Um, can you apologize to the ladies for me too? When they wake up, I mean.”

“N-Nina? And Deirdre? You took them out? By yourself?”

Narci stood straighter.

“Well, Nash dropped a smoke bomb, and I didn't really want to hurt them or anything...but yes. I did.”

Swag patted Narci on the shoulder.

“I'm impressed, kid. Now never ever do that again.”

The young Riddlers didn't stay long; technically it was illegal for Narci and Nash to be in the club during business hours, even if the Question Mark wouldn't be opening tonight. 'Electrical malfunction' they had told the disappointed crowd. But for a while after that, Detective stayed by Swag's side, comforting arm around his shoulders.

“You guys did right.” Swag said. “There's a reason I didn't want to be like that anymore. Like, yeah, that's me, and that's still swimming around inside me. Everything I did, and everything I thought and felt. That's entirely me. But this is also me. This is what I chose.” he stroked his chin. “Ugh, he shaved me. Damnit, that's gonna take weeks to grow back just right. And where are my earrings?”

He got up and began searching around for his jewelry.

“Swag.”

“Yeah?”

“If you are serious about letting go of the past...may I suggest that you actually let go?”

They gestured at the green suit Swag was still wearing. He plucked at the lapels.

“Yeah...guess I've grown out of it, huh. Doesn't fit quite right anymore. I don't know why I kept all this stuff. Contingency, I guess. But...I don't need it anymore. Tell ya what, I'll pack all this stuff up, the suit, the hat, the cane, all of that. And I'll... I dunno. Throw it in the bay. Donate it to a museum. Something like that.”

“I could help, if you like.”

“Nah...this is really somethin' I should do myself. 'Sides, you guys already helped me out plenty tonight. Guess this whole Family business is worth somethin' after all. If you can see me at my worst and still stick around...I dunno, it's giving 'hope for the future', you know?”

Detective stayed the night, just talking while Swag packed, bathed, rested. And though they did see that hope Swag spoke of peeking through as he chattered about future plans, they couldn't help but to let their mind drift to the mystery they knew hung on the horizon.

Artist: @cardwrecks